THE HAPPY PRINCE 

AND OTHER FAIRY TALES 



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THE HAPPY 
P P^ N C E 

AND 

OTHER. STOR^IES 

BY 

OSCAR WILDE 

ILLUSTRATED BY 
SPENCEI^ BAIR^D NICHOLS 



cNEW YORK. 

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



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Illustrations Copyrighted, 1913, by 
Frederick A. Stokes Company 



All rights reserved 



RepJacciTiont 



PRINTED IN U. S. A. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Happy Prince 3 

The Nightingale and the Rose 23 

The Selfish Giant 37 

The Young King 47 

The Star-Child 75 

The Fisherman and His Soul 107 

The Birthday of the Infanta 171 



a ( 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

I pray thee let me go'" Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAGE 

'''Little Swallow,' said the Prince, 'Will you not 
stay with me for one night?'" 8 



(( 



And the angel brought God the leaden heart 
and the dead bird" i8 



<( I 



Come with me to my garden, which is Paradise' " 44 

"A few bubbles rose where he sank" .... 58 

" And lo ! The sunbeams wove round him a tissued 

robe" 70 



U ( 



Why! There's a crock of gold for whoever finds 
it'" 78 



(( 



Blessed the sea and all the wild things that are 
in it" 168 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 

HIGH above the city, on a tall column, 
stood the statue of the Happy Prince. 
He was gilded all over with thin leaves of 
fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, 
and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt. 

He was very much admired indeed. "He is 
as beautiful as a weathercock,'' remarked one of 
the Town Councillors who wished to gain a 
reputation for having artistic tastes; "only not 
quite so useful," he added, fearing lest people 
should think him unpractical, which he really 
was not. 

"Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?" 
asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was 
crying for the moon. " The Happy Prince never 
dreams of crying for anything." 

"I am glad there is some one in the world who 
is quite happy," muttered a disappointed man 
as he gazed at the wonderful statue. 

"He looks just hke an angel," said the Charity 
Children as they came out of the cathedral in 

[3] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



their bright scarlet cloaks, and their clean white 
pinafores. 

"How do you know?" said the Mathematical 
Master, "you have never seen one." 

"Ah! but we have, in our dreams," answered 
the children; and the Mathematical Master 
frowned and looked very severe, for he did not 
approve of children dreaming. 

One night there flew over the city a little 
Swallow. His friends had gone away to Egypt 
six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for 
he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. 
He had met her early in the spring as he was 
flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and 
had been so attracted by her slender waist that 
he had stopped to talk to her. 

"Shall I love you?" said the Swallow, who 
liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed 
made him a low bow. So he flew round and 
round her, touching the water with his wings, 
and making silver ripples. This was his court- 
ship, and it lasted all through the summer. 

"It is a ridiculous attachment," twittered the 
other Swallows, "she has no money, and far too 
many relations;" and indeed the river was quite 
full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came, 
they all flew away. 

[4] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



After they had gone he felt lonely, and began 
to tire of his lady-love. "She has no conversa- 
tion," he said, "and I am afraid that she is a 
coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind." 
And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the 
Reed made the most graceful curtsies. " I admit 
that she is domestic," he continued, "but I love 
travelling, and my wife, consequently, should 
love travelling also." 

"Will you come away with me?" he said finally 
to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so 
attached to her home. 

"You have been trifling with me," he cried, 
"I am off to the Pyramids. Good-bye!" and he 
flew away. 

All day long he flew, and at night-time he 
arrived at the city. "Where shall I put up?" 
he said; "I hope the town has made prepa- 
rations." 

Then he saw the statue on the tall column. 
"I will put up there," he cried; "it is a fine posi- 
tion with plenty of fresh air." So he alighted 
just between the feet of the Happy Prince. 

"I have a golden bedroom," he said softly to 
himself as he looked round, and he prepared to 
go to sleep; but just as he was putting his head 
under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. 

[5] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



*^ What a curious thing!" he cried, "there is not a 
single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear 
and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in 
the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed 
used to like the rain, but that was merely her 
selfishness." 

Then another drop fell. 

" What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep 
the rain off?" he said; "I must look for a good 
chimney-pot," and he determined to fly away. 

But before he had opened his wings, a third 
drop fell, and he looked up, and saw — Ah! what 
did he see? 

The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with 
tears, and tears were running down his golden 
cheeks. His face was so beautiful in. the moon- 
light that the Httle Swallow was filled with pity. 

"Who are you?" he said. 

"I am the Happy Prince." 

"Why are you weeping then?" asked the 
Swallow; "you have quite drenched me." 

"When I was aHve and had a human heart," 
answered the statue, " I did not know what tears 
were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci, 
where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the 
daytime I played with my companions in the 
garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the 

[6] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty 
wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, 
everything about me was so beautiful. My 
courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy 
indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I 
lived, and so I died. And now that I am dead 
they have set me up here so high that I can see 
all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, 
and though my heart is made of lead yet I can- 
not choose but weep." 

"What, is he not soHd gold?" said the Swallow 
to himself. He was too poHte to make any per- 
sonal remarks out loud. 

"Far away," continued the statue in a low 
musical voice, "far away in a little street there is 
a poor house. One of the windows is open, and 
through it I can see a woman seated at the table. 
Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse, 
red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she is a 
seamstress. She is embroidering passion-flowers 
on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen's 
maids-of-honour to wear at the next Court-ball. 
In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy 
is Ij^ng iU. He has a fever, and is asking for 
oranges. His mother has nothing to give him 
but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, 
Swallow, Httle Swallow, will you not bring her 

in 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 






the ruby out of my sword-hilt? My feet are 
fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move." 
I am waited for in Egypt/' said the Swallow. 

My friends are flying up and down the Nile, 
and talking to the large lotus-flowers. Soon they 
will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. 
The King is there himself in his painted cofiin. 
He is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed 
with spices. Round his neck is a chain of pale 
green jade, and his hands are like withered 
leaves." 

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
Prince, " will you not stay with me for one night, 
and be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty, 
and the mother so sad." 

"I don't think I like boys," answered the 
Swallow. "Last summer, when I was staying 
on the river, there were two rude boys, the 
miller's sons, who were always throwing stones 
at me. They never hit me, of course; we swallows 
fly far too well for that, and besides, I come of a 
family famous for its agility; but still, it was a 
mark of disrespect." 

But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the 
little Swallow was sorry. "It is very cold here," 
he said; "but I will stay with you for one night, 
and be your messenger. ' ' 

[8] 




COPYRIGHT, 1913, Bf FREDeRICK A. STOKES COMPANY 



" 'little swallow,' said the prince, 'will you not stay 

WITH ME for one NIGHT?'" — Page 8 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



"Thank you, little Swallow/' said the Prince. 

So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from 
the Prince's sword, and flew away with it in his 
beak over the roofs of the town. 

He passed by the cathedral tower, where the 
white marble angels were sculptured. He passed 
by the palace and heard the sound of dancing. 
A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her 
lover. "How wonderful the stars are," he said 
to her, "and how wonderful is the power of love!" 
"I hope my dress will be ready in time for the 
State-ball," she answered; "I have ordered 
passion-flowers to be embroidered on it; but the 
seamstresses are so lazy." 

He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns 
hanging to the masts of the ships. He passed 
over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews bargaining 
with each other, and weighing out money in 
copper scales. At last he came to the poor house 
and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly 
on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she 
was so tired. In he hopped, and laid the great 
ruby on the table beside the woman's thimble. 
Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the 
boy's forehead with his wings. "How cool I 
feel," said the boy, "I must be getting better;" 
and he sank into a delicious slumber. 

[9] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy 
Prince, and told him what he had done. "It is 
curious," he remarked, "but I feel quite warm 
now, although it is so cold." 

"That is because you have done a good action," 
said the Prince. And the little Swallow began 
to think, and then he fell asleep. Thinking 
always made him sleepy. 

When day broke he flew down to the river and 
had a bath. " What a remarkable phenomenon," 
said the Professor of Ornithology as he was pass- 
ing over the bridge. "A swallow in winter!" 
And he wrote a long letter about it to the local 
newspaper. Everyone quoted it, it was full of 
so many words that they could .not under- 
stand. 

"To-night I go to Egypt," said the Swallow 
and he was in high spirits at the prospect. He 
visited all the public monuments, and sat a long 
time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he 
went Sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, 
"What a distinguished stranger!" so he enjoyed 
himself very much. 

When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy 
Prince. "Have you any commissions for 
Egypt?" he cried; "I am just starting." 

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 

[10] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



Prince, "will you not stay with me one night 
longer?" 

"I am waited for in Egypt," answered the 
Swallow. *^ To-morrow my friends will fly up 
to the Second Cataract. The river-horse couches 
there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite 
throne sits the God Memnon. All night long 
he watches the stars, and when the morning star 
shines he utters one cry of joy, and then he is 
silent. At noon the yellow lions come down to 
the water's edge to drink. They have eyes like 
green beryls, and their roar is louder than the 
roar of the cataract." 

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,'^ said the 
Prince, "far away across the city I see a young 
man in a garret. He is leam'ng over a desk 
covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his 
side there is a bunch of withered violets. His 
hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as a 
pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. 
He is trying to finish a play for the Director of 
the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any more. 
There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made 
him faint." 

"I will wait with you one night longer," said 
the Swallow, who really had a good heart. " Shall 
I take him another ruby?" 

[11] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



"Alas! I have no ruby now," said the Prince; 
" my eyes are all that I have left. They are made 
of rare sapphires, which were brought out of 
India a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of 
them and take it to him. He will sell it to the 
jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish 
his play. " 

"Dear Prince," said the Swallow, "I cannot 
do that;" and he began to weep. 

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
Prince, "do as I command you." 

So the Swallow plucked out the Prince's eye, 
and flew away to the student's garret. It was 
easy enough to get in, as there was a hole in the 
roof. Through this he darted, and came into the 
room. The young man had his head buried in 
his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the 
bird's wings, and when he looked up he found 
the beautiful sapphire lying on the withered 
violets. 

"I am beginning to be appreciated," he cried; 
"this is from some great admirer. Now I can 
finish my play," and he looked quite happy. 

The next day the Swallow flew down to the 
harbour. He sat on the mast of a large vessel 
and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of 
the hold with ropes. "Heave a-hoy!" they 

[12] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



shouted as each chest came up. "I am going to 
Egypt !'^ cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, 
and when the moon rose he flew back to the 
Happy Prince. 

**I am come to bid you good-bye,'* he cried. 

'^Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
Prince, "will you not stay with me one night 
longer?" 

"It is winter," answered the Swallow, "and 
the chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt the 
sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and the 
crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about 
them. My companions are building a nest in 
the Temple of Baalbec, and the pink and white 
doves are watching them, and cooing to each 
other. Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will 
never forget you, and next spring I will bring you 
back two beautiful jewels in place of those you 
have given away. The ruby shall be redder than 
a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as 
the great sea." 

"In the square below," said the Happy Prince, 
"there stands a little match-girl. She has let 
her matches faU in the gutter, and they are all 
spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not 
bring home some money, and she is crying. She 
has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is 

1 13 1 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



bare. Pluck out my other eye, and give it to 
her, and her father will not beat her." 

"I will stay with you one night longer," said 
the Swallow, "but I cannot pluck out your eye. 
You would be quite bhnd then." 

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
Prince, "do as I command you." 

So he plucked out the Prince's other eye, and 
darted down with it. He swooped past the 
match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm 
of her hand. "What a lovely bit of glass," 
cried the little girl; and she ran home, laughing. 

Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. 
"You are blind now," he said, "so I will stay 
with you always." 

"No, little Swallow," said the poor Prince, 
"you must go away to Egypt." 

" I will stay with you always," said the Swallow, 
and he slept at the Prince's feet. 

All the next day he sat on the Prince's shoulder, 
and told him stories of what he had seen in 
strange lands. He told him of the red ibises, 
who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, 
and catch gold fish in their beaks; of the Sphinx, 
who is as old as the world itself, and lives in the 
desert, and knows everything; of the merchants, 
who walk slowly by the side of their camels, and 

[14] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



carry amber beads in their hands; of the King of 
the Mountains of the Moon, who is as black as 
ebony, and worships a large crystal; of the great 
green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, and has 
twenty priests to feed it with honey-cakes; and 
of the pygmies who sail over a big lake on large 
flat leaves, and are always at war with the butter- 
flies. 

"Dear little Swallow," said the Prince, "you 
tell me of marvellous things, but more marvellous 
than anything is the suffering of men and of 
women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery.^ 
Fly over my city, little Swallow, and tell me what \— 
you see there. '^ 

So the Swallow flew over the great city, and 
saw the rich making merry in their beautiful 
houses, while the beggars were sitting at the 
gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white 
faces of starving children looking out listlessly at 
the black streets. Under the archway of a 
bridge two Httle boys were lying in one another's 
arms to try and keep themselves warm. "How 
hungry we are!" they said. "You must not lie 
here," shouted the Watchman, and they wan- 
dered out into the rain. 

Then he flew back and told the Prince what he 
had seen. 

[15] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



"I am covered with fine gold/' said the Prince, 
*'you must take it off leaf by leaf, and give it to 
my poor; the living always think that gold can 
make them happy." 

Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow 
picked off, till the Happy Prince looked quite 
dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he 
brought to the poor, and the children's faces 
grew rosier, and they laughed and played games 
in the street. " We have bread now!"they cried. 

Then the snow came, and after the snow came 
the frost. The streets looked as if they were 
made of silver, they were so bright and glistening; 
long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from 
the eaves of the houses, everybody went about in 
furs, and the little boys wore scarlet caps and 
skated on the ice. 

The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, 
but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him 
too well. He picked up crumbs outside the 
baker's door when the baker was not looking, 
and tried to keep himself warm by flapping his 
wings. 

But at last he knew that he was going to die. 
He had just strength to fly up to the Prince's 
shoulder once more. "Good-bye, dear Prince!'* 
he murmured, "will you let me kiss your hand?" 

[151 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



"I am glad that you are going to Egypt at 
last, little Swallow/' said the Prince, "you have 
stayed too long here; but you must kiss me on 
the lips, for I love you." 

"It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the 
Swallow. "I am going to the House of Death. 
Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?" 

And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, 
and fell down dead at his feet. 

At that moment a curious crack sounded in- 
side the statue as if something had broken. The 
fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right 
in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard 
frost. 

Early the next morning the Mayor was walking 
in the square below in company with the Town 
Councillors. As they passed the column he 
looked up at the statue: "Dear me! how shabby 
the Happy Prince looks!" he said. 

"How shabby indeed!" cried the Town Coun- 
cillors, who always agreed with the Mayor, and 
they went up to look at it, 

"The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes 
are gone, and he is golden no longer," said the 
Mayor; "in fact, he is little better than a beggar!" 

"Little better than a beggar," said the Town 
Councillors. 

2 [17J 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



"And here is actually a dead bird" at his feet!" 
continued the Mayor. "We must really issue a 
proclamation that birds are not to be allowed to 
die here." And the Town Clerk made a note of 
the suggestion. 

So they pulled down the statue of the Happy 
Prince. "As he is no longer beautiful he is no 
longer useful," said the Art Professor at the 
University. 

Then they melted the statue in a furnace and 
the Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to 
decide what was to be done with the metal. " We 
must have another statue, of course," he said, 
"and it shall be a statue of myself." 

"Of myself," said each of the Town Coun- 
cillors, and they quarrelled. When I last heard 
of them they were quarrelling still. 

"What a strange thing!" said the overseer of 
the workmen at the foundry. "This broken 
lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We 
must throw it away." So they threw it on 
a dust-heap where the dead swallow was also 
lying. 

"Bring me the two most precious things in the 
city," said God to one of His Angels; and the 
Angel brought Him the leaden heart and the 
dead bird. 

[18] 




COPyRIGMT, 1913. Bt FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 



AND THE AXGEL BROUGHT GOD THE LEADEN HEART AND 
THE DEAD BIRd'' Pa^e 1 8 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



"You have rightly chosen/' said God, "for in 
my garden of Paradise this Httle bird shall sing 
for evermore, and in my city of gold the Happy 
Prince shall praise me." 



[19] 



THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 



THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 

SHE said that she would dance with me if 
I brought her red roses," cried the young 
Student; "but in all my garden there is 
no red rose." 

From her nest in the holm-oak tree the Night- 
ingale heard him, and she looked out through the 
leaves, and wondered. 

"No red rose in all my garden!" he cried, and 
his beautiful eyes filled with tears. "Ah, on 
what little things does happiness depend! I 
have read all that the wise men have written, 
and all the secrets of philosophy are mine, 
yet for want of a red rose is my life made 
wretched." 

"Here at last is a true lover," said the Nightin- 
gale. "Night after night have I sung of him 
though I knew him not: night after night have I 
told his story to the stars, and now I see him. 
His hair is dark as the hyacinth-blossom, and his 
lips are red as the rose of his desire; but passion 
has made his face like pale ivory, and sorrow has 
set her seal upon his brow." 

[23] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



"The Prince gives a ball to-morrow night," 
murmured the young Student, "and my love will 
be of the company. If I bring her a red rose she 
will dance with me till dawn. If I bring her a 
red rose, I shall hold her in my arms, and she 
will lean her head upon my shoulder, and her hand 
will be clasped in mine. But there is no red rose 
in my garden, so I shall sit lonely, and she will 
pass me by. She will have no heed of me, and 
my heart will break." 

"Here indeed is the true lover," said the 
Nightingale. "What I sing of, he suffers; what 
is joy to me, to him is pain. Surely Love is a 
wonderful thing. It is more precious than 
emeralds, and dearer than fine opals. Pearls and 
pomegranates cannot buy it, nor is it set forth in 
the market-place. It may not be purchased of 
the merchants, nor can it be weighed out in the 
balance for gold." 

"The musicians will sit in their gallery," said 
the young Student, "and play upon their stringed 
instruments, and my love will dance to the sound 
of the harp and the violin. She will dance so 
lightly that her feet will not touch the floor, and 
the courtiers in their gay dresses will throng 
round her. But with me she will not dance, for 
I have no red rose to give her;" and he flung him- 

[24] 



TH E NIGHTINGALE AND TH E ROSE 

self down on the grass, and buried his face in his 
hands, and wept. 

"Why is he weeping?" asked a little Green 
Lizard, as he ran past him with his tail in the 
air. 

"Why, indeed?'^ said a Butterfly, who was 
fluttering after a sunbeam. 

"Why indeed?" whispered a Daisy to his 
neighbour, in a soft, low voice. 

"He is weeping for a red rose," said the 
Nightingale. 

"For a red rose!" they cried; "how very 
ridiculous!" and the little Lizard, who was some- 
thing of a cynic, laughed outright. 

But the Nightingale understood the secret of 
the Student's sorrow, and she sat silent in the 
Oak-tree, and thought about the mystery of love. 

Suddenly she spread her brown wings for 
flight, and soared into the air. She passed 
through the grove like a shadow, and like a 
shadow she sailed across the garden. 

In the centre of the grass-plot was standing 
a beautiful Rose-tree, and when she saw it, she 
flew over to it, and lit upon a spray. 

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will 
sing you my sweetest song." 

But the Tree shook its head. 

[25] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



"My roses are white," it answered; "as white 
as the foam of the sea, and whiter than the snow 
upon the mountain. But go to my brother who 
grows round the old sun-dial, and perhaps he will 
give what you want." 

So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree 
that was growing round the old sun-dial. 

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will 
sing you my sweetest song." 

But the Tree shook its head. 

"My roses are yellow," it answered; "as yellow 
as the hair of the mermaiden who sits upon an 
amber throne, and yellower than the daffodil 
that blooms in the meadow before the mower 
comes with his scythe. But go to my brother 
who grows beneath the Student's window, and 
perhaps he will give you what you want." 

So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree 
that was growing beneath the Student's window. 

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will 
sing you my sweetest song." 

But the Tree shook its head. 

"My roses are red," it answered, "as red as the 
feet of the dove, and redder than the great fans 
of coral that wave and wave in the ocean- cavern. 
But the winter has chilled my veins, and the 
frost has nipped my buds, and the storm 

[26] 



THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 

has broken my branches, and I shall have no 
roses at all this year." 

"One red rose is aU I want," cried the Nightin- 
gale, "only one red rose! Is there no way by 
which I can get it?" 

"There is a way," answered the Tree; "but 
it is so terrible that I dare not tell it to you." 

"Tell it to me," said the Nightingale, "I am 
not afraid." 

"If you want a red rose," said the Tree, "you 
must build it out of music by moonlight, and stain 
it with your own heart' s-blood. You must sing 
to me with your breast against a thorn. All 
night long you must sing to me, and the thorn 
must pierce your heart, and your life-blood must 
flow into my veins and become mine." 

"Death is a great price to pay for a red rose," 
cried the Nightingale, "and Life is very dear to 
all. It is pleasant to sit in the green wood, and 
to watch the Sun in his chariot of gold, and the 
Moon in her chariot "of pearl. Sweet is the scent 
of the hawthorn, and sweet are the bluebells that 
hide in the valley, and the heather that blows on 
the hill. Yet Love is better than Life, and what 
is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a 
man?" 

So she spread her brown wings for flight, and 

[271 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



soared into the air. She swept over the garden 
like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed 
through the grove. 

The young Student was still lying on the grass, 
where she had left him, and the tears were not 
yet dry in his beautiful eyes. 

"Be happy,'' cried the Nightingale, "be happy; 
you shall have your red rose. I will build it out 
of music by moonlight, and stain it with my own 
heart's-blood. All that I ask of you in return is 
that you will be a true lover, for Love is wiser 
than Philosophy, though she is wise, and mightier 
than Power, though he is mighty. Flame- 
coloured are his wings, and coloured Hke flame is 
his body. His lips are sweet as honey, and his 
breath is like frankincense." 

The Student looked up from the grass, and 
listened, but he could not understand what the 
Nightingale was saying to him, for he only knew 
the things that are written down in books. 

But the Oak-tree understood, and felt sad, for 
he was very fond of the little Nightingale who 
had built her nest in his branches. 

"Sing me one last song," he whispered; "I 
shall feel very lonely when you are gone." 

So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, and 
her voice was like water bubbling from a silver jar. 

[28] 



THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 

When she had finished her song, the Student 
got up, and pulled a note-book and a lead-pencil 
out of his pocket. 

"She has form," he said to himself, as he 
walked away through the grove — "that cannot 
be denied to her; but has she got feeling? I am 
afraid not. In fact, she is like most artists; she is 
all style, without any sincerity. She would not 
sacrifice herself for others. She thinks merely 
of music, and everybody knows that the arts are 
selfish. Still, it must be admitted that she has 
some beautiful notes in her voice. What a pity 
it is that they do not mean anything, or do any 
practical good.'' And he went into his room, and 
lay down on his little pallet-bed, and began to 
think of his love; and, after a time, he fell asleep. 

And when the Moon shone in the heavens the 
Nightingale flew to the Rose-tree, and set her 
breast against the thorn. All night long she sang 
with her breast against the thorn, and the cold 
crystal Moon leaned down and listened. All 
night long she sang, and the thorn went deeper 
and deeper into her breast, and her life blood 
ebbed away from her. 

She sang first of the birth of love in the heart 
of a boy and a girl. And on the topmost spray 
of the Rose-tree there blossomed a marvellous 

[29] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



rose, petal followed petal, as song followed song. 
Pale was it, at first, as the mist that hangs over 
the river — ^pale as the feet of the morning, and 
silver as the wings of the dawn. As the shadow 
of a rose in a mirror of silver, as the shadow of a 
rose in a water-pool, so was the rose that blos- 
somed on the topmost spray of the Tree. 

But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press 
closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little 
Nightingale,*' cried the Tree, "or the Day will 
come before the rose is finished." 

So the Nightingale pressed closer against the 
thorn, and louder and louder grew her song, for 
she sang of the birth of passion in the soul of a 
man and a maid. 

And a delicate flush of pink came into the 
leaves of the rose, like the flush in the face of the 
bridegroom when he kisses the lips of the bride. 
But the thorn had not yet reached her heart, so 
the rose's heart remained white, for only a Night- 
ingale's heart's-blood can crimson the heart of a 
rose. 

And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press 
closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little 
Nightingale," cried the Tree, "or the Day will 
come before the rose is finished." 

So the Nightingale pressed closer against the 

[30] 



THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 

thorn, and the thorn touched her heart and a 
fierce pang of pain shot through her. Bitter, 
bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew 
her song, for she sang of the Love that is perfected 
by Death, of the Love that dies not in the 
tomb. 

And the marvellous rose became crimson, like 
the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the 
girdle of petals, and crimson as a ruby was the 
heart. 

But the Nightingale's voice grew fainter, and 
her little wings began to beat, and a film came 
over her eyes. Fainter and fainter grew her song, 
and she felt something choking in her throat. 

Then she gave one last burst of music. The 
white Moon heard it, and she forgot the dawn, 
and lingered on in the sky. The red rose heard 
it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy, and opened 
its petals to the cold morning air. Echo bore it 
to her purple cavern in the hills, and woke the 
sleeping shepherds from their dreams. It floated 
through the reeds of the river, and they carried 
its message to the sea. 

"Look, look!'' cried the Tree, "the rose is 
finished now;" but the Nightingale made no 
answer, for she was lying dead in the long grass, 
with the thorn in her heart. 

131] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



And at noon the Student opened his window 
and looked out. 

"Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!'* he 
cried; "here is a red rose! I have never seen any- 
rose like it in all my life. It is so beautiful that 
I am sure that it has a long Latin name;" and 
he leaned down and plucked it. 

Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the 
Professor's house with the rose in his hand. 

The daughter of the Professor was sitting in 
the doorway winding blue silk on a reel, and her 
little dog was lying at her feet. 

"You said that you would dance with me if I 
brought you a red rose," cried the Student. 
"Here is the reddest rose in all the world. You 
will wear it to-night next your heart, and as we 
dance together it will tell you how I love you." 

But the girl frowned. 

"I am afraid it will not go with my dress," she 
answered; "and, besides, the Chamberlain's 
nephew sent me some real jewels, and everybody 
knows that jewels cost far more than flowers." 

"Well, upon my word, you are very ungrate- 
ful," said the Student angrily; and he threw the 
rose into the street, where it fell into the gutter, 
and a cartwheel went over it. 

"Ungrateful!" said the girl. "I tell you what, 

[32] 



THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 

you are very rude; and, after all, who are you? 
Only a Student. Why, I don't believe you have 
even got silver buckles to your shoes as the 
Chamberlain's nephew has/' and she got up 
from her chair and went into the house. 

'* What a silly thing Love is," said the Student 
as he walked away. *^It is not half as useful as 
Logic, for it does not prove anything, and it is 
always telling one of things that are not going 
to happen, and making one believe things that 
are not true. In fact, it is quite unpractical, 
and, as in this age to be practical is every 
thing, I shall go back to Philosophy and 
study Metaphysics." 

So he returned to his room and pulled out a 
great dusty book, and began to read. 



[33] 



THE SELFISH GIANT 



THE SELFISH GIANT 

EVERY afternoon, as they were coming 
from school, the children used to go and 
play in the Giant's garden. 

It was a large lovely garden, with soft green 
grass. Here and there over the grass stood 
beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve 
peach-trees that in the springtime broke out into 
delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the 
autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the 
trees and sang so sweetly that the children used 
to stop their games in order to listen to them. 
"How happy we are hereP' they cried to each 
other. 

One day the giant came back. He had been 
to visit his friend, the Cornish ogre, and had 
stayed with him for seven years. After the 
seven years were over he had said all that he had 
to say, for his conversation was limited, and he 
determined to return to his own castle. When he 
arrived he saw the children playing in the garden. 

"What are you doing there?" he cried in a very 
gruff voice, and the children ran away. 

[37] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



"My own garden is my own garden," said the 
Giant; "any one can understand that, and I will 
allow nobody to play in it but myself." So he 
built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice- 
board. 



TRESPASSERS 

WILL BE 
PROSECUTED 



He was a very selfish giant. 

The poor children had now nowhere to play. 
They tried to play on the road, but the road was 
very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did 
not like it. They used to wander round the high 
wall when their lessons were over, and talk about 
the beautiful garden inside. "How happy we 
were there," they said to each other. 

Then the Spring came, and all over the country 
there were little blossoms and little birds. Only 
in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still 
winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as 
there were no children, and the trees forgot to 
blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head 
out from the grass, but when it saw the notice- 

[38] 



THE SELFISH GIANT 



board it was so sorry for the children that it 
sh'pped back into the ground again, and went off 
to sleep. The only people who were pleased 
were the Saow- and the Frost. "Spring has 
forgotten this garden/' they cried, "so we will 
live here all the year round." The Snow covered 
up the grass with her great white cloak, and the 
Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they 
invited the Norths Wind to stay with them, and 
he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared 
all day about the garden, and blew the chimney- 
pots down. "This is a delightful spot," he said, 
"we must ask the Hail on a visit." So the Hail 
came. Every day for three hours he rattled on 
the roof of the castle till he broke most of the 
slates, and then he ran round and round the 
garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in 
grey, and his breath was like ice. 

"I can not understand why the Spring is so 
late in coming," said the Selfish Giant, as he sat 
at the window and looked out at his cold white 
garden; "I hope there will be a change in the 
weather." 

But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. 
The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, 
but to the Giant's garden she gave none. "He 
is too selfish," she said. So it was always winter 

[39] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the 
Frost, and the Snow danced about through the 
trees. 

One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed 
when he heard some lovely music. It sounded 
so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be 
the King's musicians passing by. It was -really 
only a little linnet singing outside his window, but 
it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in 
his garden that it seemed to him to be the most 
beautiful music in the world. Then the Hail 
stopped dancing over his head, and the North 
Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume 
came to him through the open casement. '*I 
believe the Spring has come at last," said the 
Giant; and he jumped out cf bsd and looked out. 

What did he see? 

He saw a most wonderful sight. Through 
a Httle hole in the wall the children had crept in, 
and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. 
In every tree that he could see there was a little 
child. And the trees were so glad to have the 
children back again that they had covered them- 
selves with blossoms, and were waving their 
arms gently above the children's heads. The 
birds were flying about and twittering with de- 
light, and the flowers were looking up through the 

[40] 



THE SELFISH GIANT 



green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, 
only in one corner it was still winter. It was the 
farthest corner of the garden, and in it was 
standing a little boy. He was so small that he 
could not reach up to the branches of the tree, 
and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. 
The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and 
snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roar- 
ing above it. "Climb up! little boy," said the 
Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it 
could; but the boy was too tiny. 

And the Giant's heart melted as he looked out. 
"How selfish I have been!" he said; "now I 
know why the Spring would not come here. I 
will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, 
and then I will knock down the wall, and my 
garden shall be the children's playground for 
ever and ever." He was really very sorry for 
what he had done. 

So he crept downstairs and opened the front 
door quite softly, and went out into the garden. 
But when the children saw him they were so 
frightened that they all ran away, and the garden 
became winter again. Only the little boy did 
not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he 
did not see the Giant coming. And the Giant 
strode up behind him and took him gently in his 

[411 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



hand, and put him up into the tree. And the 
*tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds 
came and sang on it, and the Httle boy stretched 
out his two arms and flung them round the Giant's 
neck, and kissed him. And the other children, 
when they saw that the Giant was not wicked 
any longer, came running back, and with them 
came the Spring. '*It is your garden now, little 
children, '^ said the Giant, and he took a great axe 
and knocked down the wall. And when the 
people were going to market at twelve o'clock 
they found the Giant playing with the children 
in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen. 

All day long they played, and in the evening 
they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye. 

"But where is your little companion?" he said: 
"the boy I put into the tree.'' The Giant loved 
him the best because he had kissed him. 

"We don't know," answered the children; "he 
has gone away." 

"You must tell him to be siure and come here 
to-morrow," said the Giant. But the children 
said that they did not know where he lived, and 
had never seen him before; and the Giant felt 
very sad. 

Every afternoon, when school was over, the 
children came and played with the Giant. But 

[42] 



THE SELFISH GIANT 



the little boy whom the Giant loved was never 
seen again. The giant was very kind to all the 
children, yet he longed for his first little friend, 
and often spoke of him. "How I would like to 
see him!'^ he used to say. 

Years went over, and the Giant grew very old 
and feeble. He could not play about any more, 
so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the 
children at their games, and admired his garden. 
"I have many beautiful flowers," he said; "but 
the children are the most beautiful flowers of all." 

One winter morning he looked out of his 
window as he was dressing. He did not hate the 
Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the 
Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting. 

Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and 
looked and looked. It certainly was a marvellous 
sight. In the farthest corner of the garden was 
a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. 
Its branches were aU golden, and silver fruit 
hung down from them, and underneath it stood 
the little boy he had loved. 

Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and 
out into the garden. He hastened across the 
grass, and came near to the child. And when he 
came quite close his face grew red with anger, and 
he said, "Who hath dared to wound thee?" 

U31 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



For on the palms of the child^s hands were the 
prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails 
were on the little feet. 

*^Who hath dared to wound thee?" cried the 
Giant; "tell me, that I may take my big sword 
and slay him." 

"Nay!" answered the child; "but these are 
the wounds of Love." 

"Who art thou?" said the Giant, and a strange 
awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little 
child. 

And the child smiled on the Giant, and said 
to him, "You let me play once in your garden, 
to-day you shall come with me to my garden, 
which is Paradise." 

And when the children ran in that afternoon, 
they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, 
all covered with white blossoms. 



[44] 




ir, lalj. dY hKtOtRlCK A. blUKtS COMPANY 



" 'come with me to my garden, which is paradise' " 



-—Page 44 



THE YOUNG KING 



THE YOUNG KING 

IT WAS the night before the day fixed for his 
coronation, and the young King was sitting 
alone in his beautiful chamber. His courtiers 
had all taken their leave of him, bowing their 
heads to the ground, according to the ceremonious 
usage of the day, and had retired to the Great 
Hall of the Palace, to receive a few lessons from 
the Professor of Etiquette; there being some of 
them who had still quite natural manners, which 
in a courtier is, I need hardly say, a very grave 
offence. 

The lad — for he was only a lad, being but six- 
teen years of age — was not sorry at their depar- 
ture, and had flung himself back with a deep sigh 
of relief on the soft cushions of his embroidered 
couch, lying there, wild-eyed and open-mouthed, 
like a brown woodland Faun, or some young 
animal of the forest newly snared by the hunters. 

And, indeed, it was the hunters who had found 
him, coming upon him almost by chance as, bare- 
limbed and pipe in hand, he was following the 
flock of the poor goatherd who had brought him 

[47] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



up, and whose son he had always fancied himself 
to be. The child of the old King's only daughter 
by a secret marriage with one much beneath her 
in station — a stranger, some said, who, by the 
wonderful magic of his lute-playing, had made the 
young Princess love him; while others spoke of 
an artist from Rimini, to whom the Princess had 
shown much, perhaps too much honour, and who 
had suddenly disappeared from the city, leaving 
his work in the Cathedral unfinished — he had 
been, when but a week old, stolen away from his 
mother's side, as she slept, and given into the 
charge of a common peasant and his wife, who 
were without children of their own, and lived in 
a remote part of the forest more than a day's 
ride from the town. Grief, or the plague, as the 
court physician stated, or, as some suggested, a 
swift Italian poison administered in a cup of 
spiced wine, slew, within an hour of her wakening 
the white girl who had given him birth, and as the 
trusty messenger who bare the child across the 
saddle-bow stooped from his weary horse and 
knocked at the rude door of the goatherd's hut, 
the body of the Princess was being lowered into 
an open grave that had been dug in a deserted 
churchyard, beyond the city gates, a grave where 
it was said that another body was also lying, that 

[48] 



THE YOUNG KING 



of a young man of marvellous and foreign beauty, 
whose hands were tied behind him with a knotted 
cord, and whose breast was stabbed with many 
red wounds. 

Such, at least, was the story that men whis- 
pered to each other. Certain it was that the old 
King, when on his death-bed, whether moved by 
remorse for his great sin, or merely desiring that 
the kingdom should not pass away from his line, 
had had the lad sent for, and, in the presence of 
the Council, had acknowledged him as^his heir. 

And it seems that from the very first moment 
of his recognition he had shown signs of that 
strange passion for beauty that was destined to 
have so great an influence over his life. Those 
who accompanied him to the suite of rooms set 
apart for his service, often spoke of the cry of 
pleasure that broke from his lips when he saw 
the delicate raiment and rich jewels that had been 
prepared for him, and of the almost fierce joy 
with which he flung aside his rough leathern 
tunic and coarse sheepskin cloak. He missed, 
indeed, at times the fine freedom of his forest life, 
and was always apt to chafe at the tedious Court 
ceremonies that occupied so much of each day, 
but the wonderful palace — Joyeuse, as they called 
it — of which he now found himself lord, seemed to 
4 [49]* 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



him to be a new world fresh-fashioned for his 
delight; and as soon as he could escape from the 
council-board or audience-chamber, he would run 
down the great staircase, with its lions of gilt 
bronze and its steps of bright porphyry, and 
wander from room to room, and from corridor to 
corridor, like one who was seeking to find in 
beauty an anodyne from pain, a sort of restora- 
tion from sickness. 

Upon these journeys of discovery, as he would 
call them — and, indeed, they were to him real 
voyages through a marvellous land — he would 
sometimes be accompanied by the slim, fair- 
haired Court pages, with their floating mantles, 
and gay fluttering ribands; but more often he 
would be alone, feeling through a certain quick 
instinct, which was almost a divination, that the 
secrets of art are best learned in secret, and that 
Beauty, like Wisdom, loves the lonely worshipper. 

Many curious stories were related about him 
at this period. It was said that a stout Burgo- 
master, who had come to deliver a florid oratorical 
address on behalf of the citizens of the town, 
had caught sight of him kneeling in real adoration 
before a great picture that had just been brought 
from Venice, and that seemed to herald the 

[50] 



THE YOUNG KING 



worship of some new gods. On another occasion 
he had been missed for several hours, and after 
a lengthened search had been discovered in a 
little chamber in one of the northern turrets of 
the palace gazing, as one in a trance, at a Greek 
gem carved with the figure of Adonis. He had 
been seen, so the tale ran, pressing his warm lips 
to the marble brow of an antique statue that had 
been discovered in the bed of the river on the 
occasion of the building of the stone bridge, and 
was inscribed with the name of the Bithynian 
slave of Hadrian. He had passed a whole night 
in noting the effect of the moonlight on a silver 
image of Endymion. 

All rare and costly materials had certainly a 
great fascination for him, and in his eagerness to 
procure them he had sent away many merchants, 
some to trafi&c for amber with the rough fisher- 
folk of the north seas, some to Egypt to look for 
that curious green turquoise which is found only 
in the tombs of kings, and is said to possess 
magical properties, some to Persia for silk 
carpets and painted pottery, and others to India 
to buy gauze and stained ivory, moonstones and 
bracelets of jade, sandal- wood and blue enamel 
and shawls of fine wool. 

But what had occupied him most was the robe 

[51] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



he was to wear at his coronation, and the robe of 
tissued gold, and the ruby-studded crown, and 
the sceptre with its rows and rings of pearls. 
Indeed, it was of this that he was thinking to- 
night, as he lay back on his luxurious couch, 
watching the great pine- wood log that was burn- 
ing itself out on the open hearth. The designs, 
which were from the hands of the most famous 
artists of the time, had been submitted to him 
many months before, and he had given orders 
that the artificers were to toil night and day to 
carry them out, and that the whole world was 
to be searched for jewels that would be worthy 
of their work. He saw himself in fancy standing 
at the high altar of the cathedral in the fair 
raiment of a King, and a smile played and 
lingered about his boyish lips, and lit up with a 
bright lustre his dark woodland eyes. 

After some time he rose from his seat, and 
leaning against the carved penthouse of the 
chimney, looked round at the dimly lit room. 
The walls were hung with rich tapestries repre- 
senting the Triumph of Beauty. A large press, 
inlaid with agate and lapis-lazuli, filled one 
corner, and facing the window stood a curiously 
wrought cabinet with lacquer panels of powdered 
and mosaiced gold, on which were placed some 

[52] 



THE YOUNG KING 



delicate goblets of Venetian glass, and a cup of 
dark- veined onyx. Pale poppies were broidered 
on the silk coverlet of the bed, as though they 
had fallen from the tired hands of sleep, and tall 
reeds of fluted ivory bare up the velvet canopy, 
from which great tufts of ostrich plumes sprang, 
like white foam, to the pallid silver of the fretted 
ceiling. A laughing Narcissus in green bronze 
held a polished mirror above its head. On the 
table stood a flat bowl of amethyst. 

Outside he could see the huge dome of the 
cathedral, looming like a bubble over the shadowy 
houses, and the weary sentinels pacing up and 
down on the misty terrace by the river. Far 
away, in an orchard, a nightingale was singing. 
A faint perfume of jasmine came through the 
open window. He brushed his brown curls 
back from his forehead, and taking up a lute, let 
his fingers stray across the cords. His heavy 
eyelids drooped, and a strange languor came 
over him. Never before had he felt so keenly, 
or with such exquisite joy, the magic and the 
mystery of beautiful things. 

When midnight sounded from the clock-tower 
he touched a bell, and his pages entered and 
disrobed him with much ceremony, pouring 
rose-water over his hands, and strewing flowers 

[53] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



on his pillow. A few moments after that they 
had left the room, he fell asleep. 

And as he slept he dreamed a dream, and this 
was his dream. 

He thought that he was standing in a long, 
low attic, amidst the whirr and clatter of many 
looms. The meagre daylight peered in through 
the grated windows, and showed him the gaunt 
figures of the weavers bending over their cases. 
Pale, sickly-looking children were crouched on 
the huge crossbeams. As the shuttles dashed 
through the warp they lifted up the heavy 
battens, and when the shuttles stopped they let 
the battens fall and pressed the threads together. 
Their faces were pinched with famine, and their 
thin hands shook and trembled. Some haggard 
women were seated at a table sewing. A 
horrible odour filled the place. The air was foul 
and heavy, and the walls dripped and streamed 
with damp. 

The young King went over to one of the 
weavers, and stood by him and watched him. 

And the weaver looked at him angrily, and 
said, "Why art thou watching me? Art thou a 
spy set on us by our master ?'' 

"Who is thy master?" asked the young King. 

[54] 



THE YOUNG KING 



"Our master!" cried the weaver, bitterly. 
"He is a man like myself. Indeed, there is but 
this difference between us — that he wears fine 
clothes while I go in rags, and that while I am 
weak from hunger he suffers not a little from 
overfeeding." 

"The land is free," said the young King, 
*'and thou art no man's slave." 

"In war," answered the weaver, "the strong 
make slaves of the weak, and in peace the rich 
make slaves of the poor. We must work to 
live, and they give us such mean wages that we 
die. We toil for them all day long, and they 
heap up gold in their coffers, and our children 
fade away before their time, and the faces of 
those we love become hard and evil. We tread 
out the grapes, another drinks the wine. We 
sow the corn, and our own board is empty. We 
have chains, though no eye beholds them; and 
are slaves, though men call us free." 

"Is it so with all?" he asked. 

"It is so with all," answered the weaver, 
"with the young as well as with the old, with 
the women as well as with the men, with the 
little children as well as with those who are 
stricken in years. The merchants grind us down, 
and we must needs do their bidding. The priest 

[55] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



Hdes by and tells his beads, and no man has care 
of us. Through our sunless lanes creeps Poverty 
with her hungry eyes, and Sin with his sodden 
face follows close behind her. Misery wakes 
us in the morning, and Shame sits with us at 
tiight. But what are these things to thee? 
Thou art not one of us. Thy face is too happy." 
And he turned away scowling, and threw the 
shuttle across the loom, and the young King saw 
that it was threaded with a thread of gold. 

And a great terror seized upon him, and he 
said to the weaver, "What robe is this that thou 
art weaving?" 

"It is the robe for the coronation of the young 
King," he answered; "What is that to thee?" 

And the young King gave a loud cry and woke, 
and lo! he was in his own chamber, and through 
the window he saw the great honey-coloured 
moon hanging in the dusky air. 

And he fell asleep again and dreamed, and 
this was his dream. 

He thought that he was lying on the deck of 
a huge galley that was being rowed by a hundred 
slaves. On a carpet by his side the master of 
the galley was seated. He was black as ebony, 
and his turban was of crimson silk. Great ear- 

[56] 



THE YOUNG KING 



rings of silver dragged down the thick lobes of 
his ears, and in his hands he had a pair of ivory 
scales. 

The slaves were naked, but for a ragged loin- 
cloth, and each man was chained to his neighbour. 
The hot sun beat brightly upon them, and the 
negroes ran up and down the gangway and 
lashed them with whips of hide. They stretched 
out their lean arms and pulled the heavy oars 
through the water. The salt spray flew from 
the blades. 

At last they reached a little bay, and began to 
take soundings. A light wind blew from the 
shore, and covered the deck and the great lateen 
sail with a fine red dust. Three Arabs mounted 
on wild asses rode out and threw spears at them. 
The master of the galley took a painted bow in 
his hand and shot one of them in the throat. 
He fell heavily into the surf, and his companions 
galloped away. A woman wrapped in a yellow 
veil followed slowly on a camel, looking back 
now and then at the dead body. 

As soon as they had cast anchor and hauled 
down the sail, the negroes went into the hold 
and brought up a long rope-ladder, heavily 
weighted with lead. The master of the galley 
threw it over the side, making the ends fast to 

[57] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



two iron stanchions. Then the negroes seized 
the youngest of the slaves, and knocked his 
gyves off, and filled his nostrils and ears with wax, 
and tied a big stone round his waist. He crept 
wearily down the ladder, and disappeared into 
the sea. A few bubbles rose where he sank. 
Some of the other slaves peered curiously over 
the side. At the prow of the galley sat a shark 
charmer, beating monotonously upon a drum. 

After some time the diver rose up out of the 
water, and clung panting to the ladder with a 
pearl in his right hand. The negroes seized it 
from him, and thrust him back. The slaves fell 
asleep over their oars. 

Again and again he came up, and each time 
that he did so he brought with him a beautiful 
pearl. The master of the galley weighed them, 
and put them into a little bag of green leather. 

The young King tried to speak, but his tongue 
seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth, and 
his lips refused to move. The negroes chattered 
to each other, and began to quarrel over a string 
of bright beads. Two cranes flew round and 
round the vessel. 

Then the diver came up for the last time, and 
the pearl that he brought with him was fairer 
than all the pearls of Ormuz, for it was shaped 

[58] 




COPYRIGHT, 1913. BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 



*A FEW BUBBLES ROSE WHERE HE SANK" Page SS 



THE YOUNG KING 



like the full moon, and whiter than the morning 
star. But his face was strangely pale, and as he 
fell upon the deck the blood gushed from his 
ears and nostrils. He quivered for a little, and 
then he was still. The negroes shrugged their 
shoulders, and threw the body overboard. 

And the master of the galley laughed, and, 
reaching out, he took the pearl, and when he 
saw it he pressed it to his forehead and bowed. 
"It shaU be," he said, "for the sceptre of the 
young King," and he made a sign to the negroes 
to draw up the anchor. 

And when the young King heard this he gave 
a great cry, and woke, and through the window 
he saw the long grey fingers of the dawn clutching 
at the fading stars. 

And he fell asleep again, and dreamed, and 
this was the dream. 

He thought that he was wandering through a 
dim wood, hung with strange fruits and with 
beautiful poisonous flowers. The adders hissed 
at him as he went by, and the bright parrots 
flew screaming from branch to branch. Huge 
tortoises lay asleep upon the hot mud. The 
trees were full of apes and peacocks. 

On and on he went, till he reached the out- 

[59] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



skirts of the wood, and there he saw an immense 
multitude of men toiling in the bed of a dried-up 
river. They swarmed up the crag like ants. 
They dug deep pits in the ground and went down 
into them. Some of them cleft the rocks with 
great axes; others grabbled in the sand. They 
tore up the cactus by its roots, and trampled on 
the scarlet blossoms. They hurried about, call- 
ing to each other, and no man was idle. 

From the darkness of a cavern Death and 
Avarice watched them, and Death said, "I am 
weary; give me a third of them and let me go." 

But Avarice shook her head. "They are my 
servants," she answered. 

And Death said to her, "What hast thou in 
thy hand?" 

"I have three grains of corn," she answered; 
"what is that to thee?" 

"Give me one of them," cried Death, "to 
plant in my garden; only one of them, and I will 
go away." 

"I will not give thee anything," said Avarice, 
and she hid her hand in the fold of her raiment. 

And Death laughed, and took a cup, and 
dipped it into a pool of water, and out of the 
cup rose Ague. She passed through the great 
multitude, and a third of them lay dead. A 

[60] 



THE YOUNG KING 



cold mist followed her, and the water-snakes 
ran by her side. 

And when Avarice saw that a third of the 
multitude was dead she beat her breast and 
wept. She beat her barren bosom, and cried 
aloud. ^^ Thou hast slain a third of my servants,' ' 
she cried, "get thee gone. There is war in the 
mountains of Tartary, and the kings of each 
side are calling to thee. The Afghans have slain 
the black ox, and are marching to battle. They 
have beaten upon their shields with their spears, 
and have put on their helmets of iron. What 
is my valley to thee, that thou should' st tarry 
in it? Get thee gone and come here no more.'' 

"Nay," answered Death, "but till thou hast 
given me a grain of corn I will not go." 

But Avarice shut her hand, and clenched her 
teeth. "I will not give thee anything," she 
muttered. 

And Death laughed, and took up a black stone, 
and threw it into the forest, and out of a thicket 
of wild hemlock came Fever in a robe of flame. 
She passed through the multitude, and touched 
them, and each man that she touched died. 
The grass withered beneath her feet as she 
walked. 

And Avarice shuddered, and put ashes on her 

[61] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



head. "Thou art cruel," she cried; "thou art 
cruel. There is famine in the walled cities of 
India, and the cisterns of Samarcand have run 
dry. There is famine in the walled cities of 
Eg3^t, and the locusts have come up from the 
desert. The Nile has not overflowed its banks, 
and the priests have cursed Isis and Osiris. 
Get thee gone to those who need thee, and leave 
me my servants." 

"Nay," answered Death, "but till thou hast 
given me a grain of corn I will not go." 

"I will not give thee anything," said Avarice. 

And Death laughed again, and he whistled 
through his fingers, and a woman came flying 
through the air. Plague was written upon her 
forehead, and a crowd of lean vultures wheeled 
round her. She covered the valley with her 
wings, and no man was left alive. 

And Avarice fled shrieking through the forest, 
and Death leaped upon his red horse and galloped 
away, and his galloping was faster than the wind. 

And out of the slime at the bottom of the 
valley crept dragons and horrible things with 
scales, and the jackals came trotting along the 
sand, sniffing up the air with their nostrils. 

And the young King wept, and said: "Who 
were these men, and for what were they seeking? 

[62] 



yy 



THE YOUNG KING 



^^For rubies for a king^s crown," answered 
one who stood behind him. 

And the young King started, and, turning 
round, he saw a man habited as a pilgrim and 
holding in his hand a mirror of silver. 

And he grew pale, and said: "For what king?" 

And the pilgrim answered: "Look in this 
mirror, and thou shalt see him." 

And he looked in the mirror, and, seeing his 
own face, he gave a great cry and woke, and the 
bright sunlight was streaming into the room, 
and from the trees of the garden and pleasaunce 
the birds were singing. 

And the Chamberlain and the high officers of 
State came in and made obeisance to him, and 
the pages brought him the robe of tissued gold, 
and set the crown ^nd the sceptre before him. 

And the young King looked at them, and they 
were beautiful. More beautiful were they than 
aught that he had ever seen. But he remem- 
bered his dreams, and he said to his lords: 
"Take these things away, for I will not wear 
them." 

And the courtiers were amazed, and some of 
them laughed, for they thought that he was 
jesting. 

But he spake sternly to them again, and said: 

[63] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



*'Take these things away and hide them from 
me. Though it be the day of my coronation, 
I will not wear them. For on the loom of 
Sorrow, and by the white hands of Pain, has 
this my robe been woven. There is Blood in 
the heart of the ruby, and Death in the heart 
of the pearl." And he told them his three 
dreams. 

And when the courtiers heard them they 
looked at each other and whispered, saying: 
"Surely he is mad; for what is a dream but a 
dream, and a vision but a vision? They are 
not real things that one should heed them. 
And what have we to do with the lives of those 
who toil for us? Shall a man not eat bread till 
he has seen the sower, nor drink wine till he 
has talked with the vine-dresser ?'' 

And the Chamberlain spake to the young 
King, and said, "My lord, I pray thee set aside 
these black thoughts of thine, and put on this 
fair robe, and set this crown upon thy head. 
For how shall the people know that thou art a 
king, if thou hast not a king's raiment?'' 

And the young King looked at him. "Is it 
so, indeed?" he questioned. "Will they not 
know me for a king if I have not a king's 
raiment?" 

164] 



THE YOUNG KING 



"They will not know thee, my lord," cried 
the Chamberlain. 

*^I had thought that there had been men who 
were kinghke," he answered, "but it may be as 
thou sayest. And yet I will not wear this robe, 
nor will I be crowned with this crown, but even 
as I came to the palace so will I go forth from 
it.'' 

And he bade them all leave him, save one 
page whom he kept as his companion, a lad 
a year younger than himself. Him he kept for 
his service, and when he had bathed himself in 
clear water, he opened a great painted chest, 
and from it he took the leathern tunic and rough 
sheepskin cloak that he had worn when he had 
watched on the hillside the shaggy goats of the 
goatherd. These he put on, and in his hand he 
took his rude shepherd's staff. 

And the little page opened his big blue eyes 
in wonder, and said smiling to him, "My lord, 
I see thy robe and thy sceptre, but where is thy 
crown?" 

And the young King plucked a spray of wild 
briar that was climbing over the balcony, and 
bent it, and made a circlet of it, and set it on his 
own head. 

This shall be my crown," he answered. And 
5 [65] 



(C' 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



thus attired he passed out of his chamber into 
the Great Hall, where the nobles were waiting 
for him. 

And the nobles made merry, and some of 
them cried out to him, "My lord, the people 
wait for their King, and thou showest them a 
beggar,'^ and others were wroth and said, "He 
brings shame upon our state, and is unworthy 
to be our master." But he answered them not 
a word, but passed on, and went down the bright 
porphyry staircase, and out through the gates 
of bronze, and mounted upon his horse, and rode 
towards the cathedral, the little page running 
beside him. 

And the people laughed and said, "It is the 
King's fool who is riding by/' and they mocked 
him. 

And he drew rein and said, "Nay, but I am 
the King." And he told them his three dreams. 

And a man came out of the crowd and spake 
bitterly to him, and said, " Sir, knowest thou not 
that out of the luxury of the rich cometh the 
life of the poor? By your pomp we are nurtured, 
and your vices give us bread. To toil for a hard 
master is bitter, but to have no master to toil 
for is more bitter still. Thinkest thou that the 
ravens will feed us? And what cure hast thou 

[66] 



THE YOUNG KING 



for these things? Wilt thou say to the buyer, 
'Thou shaltbuy for so much/ and to the seller, 
*Thou shalt sell at this price ?^ I trow not. 
Therefore go back to thy palace and put on thy 
purple and fine linen. What hast thou to do 
with us, and what we suffer?" 

"Are not the rich and the poor brothers?" 
asked the young King. 

"Aye," answered the man, "and the name of 
the rich brother is Cain." 

And the young King's eyes filled with tears, 
and he rode on through the murmurs of the 
people, and the little page grew afraid and left 
him. 

And when he reached the great portal of the 
cathedral, the soldiers thrust their halberts out 
and said, "What dost thou seek here? None 
enters by this door but the King." 

And his face flushed with anger, and he said 
to them, "I am the King," and waved their 
halberts aside and passed in. 

And when the old Bishop saw him coming in 
his goatherd's dress, he rose up in wonder from 
his throne, and went to meet him, and said to 
him, "My son, is this a king's apparel? And 
with what crown shall I crown thee, and what 
sceptre shall I place in thy hand? Surely this 

[67] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



should be to thee a day of joy, and not a day of 
abasement." 

"Shall Joy wear what Grief has fashioned?'' 
said the young King. And he told him his three 
dreams. 

And when the Bishop had heard them he knit 
his brows, and said, "My son, I am an old man, 
and in the winter of my days, and I know that 
many evil things are done in the wide world. 
The fierce robbers come down from the moun- 
tains, and carry off the little children, and sell 
them to the Moors. The lions lie in wait for the 
caravans, and leap upon the camels. The wild 
boar roots up the corn in the valley, and the 
foxes gnaw the vines upon the hill. The pirates 
lay waste the sea-coast and burn the ships of the 
fishermen, and take their nets from .them. In 
the salt-marshes live the lepers; they have houses 
of wattled reeds, and none may come nigh them. 
The beggars wander through the cities, and eat 
their food with the dogs. Canst thou make 
these things not to be? Wilt thou take the leper 
for thy bedfellow, and set the beggar at thy 
board? Shall the lion do thy bidding, and the 
wild boar obey thee? Is not He who made 
misery wiser than thou art? Wherefore I praise 
thee not for this that thou hast done, but I bid 

[68] 



THE YOUNG KING 



thee ride back to the Palace and make thy face 
glad, and put on the raiment that beseemeth a 
king, and with the crown of gold I will crown 
thee, and the sceptre of pearl will I place in thy 
hand. And as for thy dreams, think no more 
of them. The burden of this world is too great 
for one man to bear, and the world's sorrow too 
heavy for one heart to suffer.'' 

**Sayest thou that in this house?" said the 
young King, and he strode past the Bishop, and 
climbed up the steps of the altar, and stood 
before the image of Christ. 

He stood before the image of Christ, and on 
his right hand and on his left were the marvel- 
lous vessels of gold, the chalice with the yellow 
wine, and the vial with the holy oil. He knelt 
before the image of Christ, and the great candles 
burned brightly by the jewelled shrine, and the 
smoke of the incense curled in thin blue wreaths 
through the dome. He bowed his head in 
prayer, and the priests in their stiff copes crept 
away from the altar. 

And suddenly a wild tumult came from the 
street outside, and in entered the nobles with 
drawn swords and nodding plumes, and shields 
of polished steel. ^' Where is this dreamer of 
dreams?" they cried. ''Where is this King, 

[69] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



who is apparelled like a beggar — this boy who 
brings shame upon our state? Surely we will 
slay him, for he is unworthy to rule over us." 

And the young King bowed his head again, 
and prayed, and when he had finished his prayer 
he rose up, and turning round he looked at them 
sadly. 

And lo! through the painted window came the 
sunlight streaming upon him, and the sunbeams 
wove round him a tissued robe that was fairer 
than the robe that had been fashioned for his 
pleasure. The dead staff blossomed, and bare 
lilies that were whiter than pearls. The dry 
thorn blossomed, and bare roses that were 
redder than rubies. Whiter than fine pearls 
were the lilies, and their stems were of bright 
silver. Redder than male rubies were the roses, 
and their leaves were of beaten gold. 

He stood there in the raiment of a king, and 
the gates of the jewelled shrine flew open, and 
from the crystal of the many-rayed monstrance 
shone a marvellous and mystical light. He 
stood there in a king's raiment, and the Glory 
of God filled the place, and the Saints in their 
carveti niches seemed to move. In the fair 
raiment of a king he stood before them, and the 
organ pealed out its music, and the trumpeters 

[70] 




COPyRIGHT, 1913. By FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 



'and lo! the sunbeams wove round him a tissued robe" 

— Page JO 



THE YOUNG KING 



blew upon their trumpets, and the singing boys 
sang. 

And the people fell upon their knees in awe, 
and the nobles sheathed their swords and did 
homage, and the Bishop's face grew pale, and 
his hands trembled. "A greater than I hath 
crowned thee," he cried, and he knelt before him. 

And the young King came down from the 
high altar, and passed home through the midst 
of the people. But no man dared look upon 
his face, for it was like the face of an angel. 



[71] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



THE STAR-CHILD 

ONCE upon a time two poor Woodcutters 
were making their way home through a 
great pine-forest. It was winter, and a 
night of bitter cold. The snow lay thick upon 
the ground, and upon the branches of the trees: 
the frost kept snapping the little twigs on either 
side of them, as they passed: and when they 
came to the Mountain-Torrent she was hanging 
motionless in air, for the Ice-King had kissed 
her. 

So cold was it that even the animals and the 
birds did not know what to make of it. 

"Ugh!" snarled the Wolf, as he limped through 
the brushwood with his tail between his legs, 
"this is perfectly monstrous weather. Why 
doesn't the Government look to it?" 

"Weet! weet! weet!" twittered the green 
Linnets, "the Old Earth is dead, and they have 
laid her out in her white shroud." 

"The Earth. is going to be married, and this 
is her bridal dress," whispered the Turtle-doves 
to each other. Their little pink feet were quite 

[75] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



frost-bitten, but they felt it was their duty to 
take a romantic view of the situation. , 

"Nonsense!" growled the Wolf. *^I tell you 
that it is all the fault of the Government, and if 
you don't believe me I shall eat you." The 
Wolf had a thoroughly practical mind, and was 
never at a loss for a good argument. 

"Well, for my own part," said the Wood- 
pecker, who was a born philosopher, "I don't 
care an atomic theory for explanations. If a 
thing is so, it is so, and at present it is terribly 
cold." 

Terribly cold it certainly was. The little 
Squirrels, who lived inside the tall fir-tree, kept 
rubbing each other's noses to keep themselves 
warm, and the Rabbits curled themselves up in 
their holes, and did not venture even to look 
out of doors. The only people who seemed to 
enjoy it were the great horned Owls. Their 
feathers were quite stiff with rime, but they did 
not mind, and they rolled their large yellow^ eyes, 
and called out to each other across the forest, 
"Tu-whit! Tu-whoo! Tu-whit! Tu-whoo! what 
delightful weather we are having!" 

On and on went the two Woodcutters, blowing 
lustily upon their fingers, and stamping with 
their huge iron-shod boots upon the caked snow. 

[76] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



Once they sank into a deep drift, and came out 
as white as millers are, when the stones are 
grinding; and once they slipped on the hard 
smooth ice where the marsh-water was frozen, 
and thdr faggots fell out of their bundles and 
they had to pick them up and bind them together 
again; and once they thought that they had lost 
their way, and a great terror seized on them, for 
they knew that the Snow is cruel to those who 
sleep in her arms. But they put their trust in 
the good Saint Martin, who watches over all 
travellers, and retraced their steps, and went 
warily, and at last they reached the outskirts 
of the forest, and saw, far down in the valley 
beneath them, the lights of the village in which 
they dwelt. 

So overjoyed were they at their deliverance 
that they laughed aloud, and the Earth seemed 
to them like a flower of silver, and the Moon 
like a flower of gold. 

Yet, after that they had laughed they became 
sad, for they remembered their poverty, and one 
of them said to the other, "Why did we make 
merry, seeing that life is for the rich, and not for 
such as we are? Better that we had died of cold 
in the forest, or that some wild beast had fallen 
upon us and slain us." 

[77] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



"Truly/' answered his companion, "much is 
given to some, and httle is given to others. 
Injustice has parcelled out the world, nor is there 
equal division of aught save of sorrow." 

But as they were bewailing their misery to 
each other this strange thing happened. There 
fell from heaven a very bright and beautiful star. 
It slipped down the side of the sky, passing by 
the other stars in its course, and, as they watched 
it wondering, it seemed to them to sink behind 
a clump of willow-trees that stood hard by a 
little sheepfold no more than a stone's throw 
away. 

"Why! there is a crock of gold for whoever 
finds it," they cried, and they set to and ran, so 
eager were they for the gold. 

And one of them ran faster than his mate, and 
outstripped him, and forced his way through 
the willows, and came out on the other side, 
and lo! there was indeed a thing of gold lying 
on the white snow. So he hastened towards 
it, and stooping down placed his hands upon it, 
and it was a cloak of golden tissue, curiously 
wrought with stars, and wrapped in many folds. 
And he cried out to his comrade that he had 
found the treasure that had fallen from the sky, 
and when his comrade had come up, they sat 

[78] 




COPYRIGHT, 1913. Br FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 

" *why! there is a crock of gold for whoever finds it* " 

—Page 78 



THE STAR-CHILD 



them down in the snow, and loosened the folds 
of the cloak that they might divide the pieces of 
gold. But, alas! no gold was in it, nor silver, 
nor, indeed, treasure of any kind, but only a 
little child who was asleep. 

And one of them said to the other: "This 
is a bitter ending to our hope, nor have we any 
good fortune, for what doth a child profit to a 
man? Let us leave it here, and go our way, 
seeing that we are poor men, and have chil- 
dren of our own whose bread we may not give to 
another." 

But his companion answered him: "Nay, 
but it were an evil thing to leave the child to 
perish here in the show, and though I am as 
poor as thou art, and have many mouths to feed, 
and but httle in the pot, yet will I bring it home 
with me, and my wife shall have care of it." 

So very tenderly he took up the child and 
wrapped the cloak around it to shield it from the 
harsh cold, and made his way down the hill to 
the village, his comrade marvelling much at his 
foolishness and softness of heart. 

And when they came to the village, his comrade 
said to him, "Thou hast the child, therefore 
give me the cloak, for it is meet that we should 
share." 

[79] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



But he answered him: "Nay, for the cloak is 
neither mine nor thine, but the child's only," 
and he bade him Godspeed, and went to his own 
house and knocked. 

And when his* wife opened the door and saw 
that her husband had returned safe to her, she 
put her arms round his neck and kissed him, and 
took from his back the bundle of faggots, and 
brushed the snow off his boots, and bade him 
come in. 

But he said to her, "I have found something 
in the forest, and I have brought it to thee to 
have care of it," and he stirred not from the 
threshold. 

"What is it?" she cried. "Show it to me, 
for the house is bare, and we have need of many 
things." And he drew the cloak back and 
showed her the sleeping child. 

"Alack, goodman!" she murmured, "have 
we not children enough of our own, that thou 
must needs t bring a changeling to sit by the 
hearth? And who knows if it will not bring us 
bad fortune? And how shall we tend it?" And 
she was wroth against him. 

"Nay, but it is a Star-Child," he answered; 
and he told her the strange manner of the 
finding of it. 

[80] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



But she would not be appeased, but mocked 
at him, and spoke angrily, and cried: "Our 
children lack bread, and shall we feed the child 
of another? Who is there who careth for us? 
And who giveth us food?'* 

"Nay, but God careth for the sparrows even, 
and feedeth them," he answered. 

"Do not the sparrows die of hunger in the 
winter ? ' ' she asked. ' ^ And is it not winter no w ? ' ' 
And the man answered nothing, but stirred not 
from the threshold. 

And a bitter wind from the forest came in 
through the open door, and made her tremble, 
and she quivered and said to him: "Wilt thou 
not close the door? There cometh a bitter wind 
into the house, and I am cold." 

"Into a house where a heart is hard cometh 
there not always a bitter wind?" he asked. And 
the woman answered him nothing, but crept 
closer to the fire. 

And after a time she turned round and looked 
at him, and her eyes were full of tears. And he 
came in swiftly, and placed the child in her arms, 
and she kissed it, and laid it in a little bed where 
the youngest of their own children was lying. 
And on the morrow the Woodcutter took the 
curious cloak of gold and placed it in a great 

[811 



THE HAPPY PPvINCE 



chest, and a chain of amber that was round the 
child's neck his wife took and set it in the chest 
also. 

So the Star-Child was brought up with the 
children of the Woodcutter, and sat at the same 
board with them, and was their playmate. And 
every year he became more beautiful to look at, 
so that all those who dwelt in the village were 
filled with wonder, for, while they were swarthy 
and black-haired, he was white and delicate as 
sawn ivory, and his curls were like the rings of 
the daffodil. His lips, also, were like the petals 
of a red flower, and his eyes were like violets 
by a river of pure water, and his body like the 
narcissus of a field where the mower comes not. 

Yet did his beauty work him evil.. For he 
grew proud, and cruel, and selfish. The children 
of the Woodcutter, and the other children of the 
village, he despised, saying that they were of 
mean parentage, while he was noble, being sprung 
from a Star, and he made himself master over 
them and called them his servants. No pity 
had he for the poor, or for those who were blind 
or maimed or in any way afflicted, but would 
cast stones at them and drive them forth on to 
the highway, and bid them beg their bread else- 

[82] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



where, so that none save outlaws came twice to 
that village to ask for alms. Indeed, he was as 
one enamoured of beauty, and would mock at 
the weakly and ill-favoured, and make jest of 
them ; and himself he loved, and in summer, when 
the winds were still, he would lie by the well in 
the priest's orchard and look down at the marvel 
of his own face, and laugh for the pleasure he 
had in his fairness. 

Often did the Woodcutter and his wife chide 
him, and say: '^We did not deal with thee as 
thou dealest with those who are left desolate, 
and have none to succour them. Wherefore 
art thou so cruel to all who need pity?" 

Often did the old priest send for him, and seek 
to teach him the love of living things, saying to 
him: "The fly is thy brother. Do it no harm. 
The wild birds that roam through the forest have 
their freedom. Snare them not for thy pleasure. 
God made the blind-worm and the mole, and 
each has its place. Who art thou to bring pain 
into God's world? Even the cattle of the field 
praise him." 

But the Star-Child heeded not their words, 
but would frown and flout, and go back to his 
companions, and lead them. And his com- 
panions followed him, for he was fair, and fleet 

183] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



of foot, and could dance, and pipe, and make 
music. And wherever the Star- Child led them 
they followed, and whatever the Star-Child bade 
them do, that did they. And when he pierced 
with a sharp reed the dim eyes of the mole, they 
laughed, and when he cast stones at the leper 
they laughed also. And in all things he ruled 
them, and they became hard of heart, even as 
he was. 

Now there passed one day through the village 
a poor beggar-woman. Her garments were torn 
and ragged, and her feet were bleeding from the 
rough road on which she had travelled, and she 
was in very evil plight. And being weary she 
sat her down under a chesnut-tree to rest. 

But when the Star-Child saw her, he said to 
his companions, "See! There sitteth a foul 
beggar-woman under that fair and green-leaved 
tree. Come, let us drive her hence, for she is 
ugly and ill-favoured.'' 

So he came near and threw stones at her, and 
mocked her, and she looked at him with terror 
in her eyes, nor did she move her gaze from him. 
And when the Woodcutter, who was cleaving 
logs in a haggard hard by, saw what the Star- 
Child was doing, he ran up and rebuked him, 
and said to him: " Surely thou art hard of heart, 

[84] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



and knowest not mercy, for what evil has this 
poor woman done to thee that thou should'st 
treat her in this wise?" 

And the Star- Child grew red with anger, and 
stamped his foot upon the ground, and said, 
"Who art thou to question me what I do? I 
am no son of thine to do thy bidding." 

*^Thou speakest truly," answered the Wood- 
cutter, '^yet did I show thee pity when I found 
thee in the forest." 

And when the woman heard these words she 
gave a loud cry, and fell into a swoon. And the 
Woodcutter carried her to his own house, and his 
wife had care of her, and when she rose up from 
the swoon into which she had fallen, they set meat 
and drink before her, and bade her have comfort. 

But she would neither eat nor drink, but said 
to the Woodcutter, "Didst thou not say that 
the child was found in the forest? And was it 
not ten years from this day?" 

And the Woodcutter answered, "Yea, it was 
in the forest that I found him, and it is ten years 
from this day." 

"And what signs didst thou find with him?" 
she cried. "Bare he not upon his neck a chain 
of amber? Was not round him a cloak of gold 
tissue broidered with stars?" 

[851 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



n 



Truly/' answered the Woodcutter, *'it was 
even as thou say est." And he took the cloak 
and the amber chain from the chest where they 
lay, and showed them to her. 

And when she saw them she wept for joy, and 
said, "He is my little son whom I lost in the 
forest. I pray thee send for him quickly, for 
in search of him have I wandered over the whole 
world." 

So the Woodcutter and his wife went out and 
called to the Star-Child, and said to him, "Go 
into the house, and there shalt thou find thy 
mother, who is waiting for thee." 

So he ran in, filled with wonder and great 
gladness. But when he saw her who was waiting 
there, he laughed scornfully and said, "Why, 
where is my mother? For I see none' here but 
this vile beggar-woman." 

And the woman answered him, "I am thy 
mother." 

"Thou art mad to say so," cried the Star- Child 
angrily. "I am no son of thine, for thou art a 
beggar, and ugly, and in rags. Therefore get 
thee hence, and let me see thy foul face no more." 

"Nay, but thou art indeed my little son, whom 
I bare in the forest," she cried, and she fell on 
her knees, and held out her arms to him. "The 

[86] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



robbers stole thee from me, and left thee to die/' 
she murmured, "but I recognised thee when I 
saw thee, and the signs also have I recognised, 
the cloak of golden tissue and the amber chain. 
Therefore I pray thee come with me, for over 
the whole world have I wandered in search of 
thee. Come with me, my son, for I have need 
of thy love." 

But the Star- Child stirred not from his place, 
but shut the doors of his heart against her, nor 
was there any sound heard save the sound of the 
woman weeping for pain. 

And at last he spoke to her, and his voice was 
hard and bitter. '^If in very truth thou art my 
mother," he said, "it had been better hadst thou 
stayed away, and not come here to bring me to 
shame, seeing that I thought I was the child of 
some Star, and not a beggar's child, as thou 
tellest me that I am. Therefore get thee hence, 
and let me see thee no more." 

"Alas! my son," she cried, "wilt thou not 
kiss me before I go? For I have suffered much 
to find thee." 

"Nay," said the Star-Child, "but thou art 
too foul to look at, and rather would I kiss the 
adder or the toad than thee." 

So the woman rose up, and went away into the 

[87] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



forest weeping bitterly, and when the Star- Child 
saw that she had gone, he was glad, and ran back 
to his playmates that he might play with them. 

But when they beheld him coming, they 
mocked him and said, "Why thou art as foul as 
the toad, and as loathsome as the adder. Get 
thee hence, for we will not suffer thee to play 
with us,'' and they drave him out of the garden. 

And the Star- Child frowned and said to him- 
self, "What is this that they say to me? I 
will go to the well of water and look into it, and 
it shall tell me of my beauty." 

So he went to the well of water and looked into 
it, and lo ! his face was as the face of a toad, and 
his body was scaled like an adder. And he 
flung himself down on the grass and wept, and 
said to himself, "Surely this has conie upon me 
by reason of my sin. For I have denied my 
mother, and driven her away, and been proud, 
and cruel to her. Wherefore I will go and seek 
her through the whole world, nor will I rest till 
I have found her.'' 

And there came to him the little daughter of 
the Woodcutter, and she put her hand upon his 
shoulder and said, "What does it matter if thou 
hast lost thy comeliness? Stay with us, and I 
will not mock at thee." 

[88] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



And he said to her, "Nay, but I have been 
cruel to my mother, and as a punishment has 
this evil been sent to me. Wherefore I must go 
hence, and wander through the world till I find 
her, and she give me her forgiveness.'^ 

So he ran away into the forest and called out 
to his mother to come to him, but there was no 
answer. All day long he called to her, and when 
the sun set he lay down to sleep on a bed of 
leaves, and the birds and the animals fled from 
him, for they remembered his cruelty, and he 
was alone save for the toad that watched him, 
and the slow adder that crawled past. 

And in the morning he rose up, and plucked 
some bitter berries from the trees and ate them, 
and took his way through the great wood, 
weeping sorely. And of everything that he met 
he made enquiry if perchance they had seen his 
mother. / 

He said to the Mole, "Thou canst go beneath 
the earth. Tell me, is my mother there?" 

And the Mole answered, "Thou hast blinded 
mine eyes. How should I know?" 

He said to the Linnet, "Thou canst fly over 
the tops of the tall trees, and canst see the 
whole world. Tell me, canst thou see my 
mother?" 

[89] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



And the Linnet answered, ^^Thou hast clipped 
my wings for thy pleasure. How should I fly?" 

And to the httle Squirrel who lived in the fir- 
tree, and was lonely, he said, ^^ Where is my 
mother?" 

And the Squirrel answered, "Thou hast slain 
mine. Dost thou seek to slay thine also?" 

And the Star- Child wept and bowed his head 
and prayed forgiveness of God's things, and 
went on through the forest, seeking for the 
beggar-woman. And on the third day he came 
to the other side of the forest and went down 
into the plain. 

And when he passed through the villages the 
children mocked him, and threw stones at him, 
and the carlots would not suffer him even to 
sleep in the byres lest he might bring mildew 
on the stored corn, so foul was he to look at, 
and their hired men drave him away, and there 
was none who had pity on him. Nor could he 
hear anywhere of the beggar-woman who was 
his mother, though for the space of three years 
he wandered over the world, and often seemed to 
see her on the road in front of him, and would 
call to her, and run after her till the sharp flints 
made his feet to bleed. But overtake her he 
could not, and those who dwelt by the way did 

[90] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



ever deny that they had seen her, or any like to 
her, and they made sport of his sorrow. 

For the space of three years he wandered over 
the world, and in the world there was neither 
love nor loving-kindness nor charity for him, but 
it was even such a world as he had made for 
himself in the days of his great pride. 

And one evening he came to the gate of a 
strong-walled city that stood by a river, and, 
weary and footsore though he was, he made to 
enter in. But the soldiers who stood on guard 
dropped their halberts across the entrance, and 
said roughly to him, "What is thy business in 
the city?" 

"I am seeking for my mother," he answered, 
" and I pray ye to suffer me to pass, for it may be 
that she is in this city." 

But they mocked at him, and one of them 
wagged a black beard, and set down his shield 
and cried, "Of a truth, thy mother will not be 
merry when she sees thee, for thou art more ill- 
favoured than the toad of the marsh, or the 
adder that crawls in the fen. Get thee gone. 
Get thee gone. Thy mother dwells not in this 
city." 

And another, who held a yellow banner in 

[91] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



his hand said to him, "Who is thy mother, and 
wherefore art thou seeking for her?" 

And he answered, "My mother is a beggar 
even as I am, and I have treated her evilly, 
and I pray ye to suffer me to pass that she may 
give me her forgiveness, if it be that she tarrieth 
in this city." But they would not, and pricked 
him with their spears. 

And, as he turned away weeping, one whose 
armour was inlaid with gilt flowers, and on whose 
helmet crouched a lion that had wings, came up 
and made enquiry of the soldiers who it was 
who had sought entrance. And they said to 
him, "It is a beggar and the child of a beggar, 
and we have driven him away." 

"Nay," he cried, laughing, "but we will sell 
the foul thing for a slave, and his prke shall be 
the price of a bowl of sweet wine." 

And an old and evil-visaged man who was 
passing by called out, and said, "I will buy 
him for that price," and, when he had paid the 
price, he took the Star- Child by the hand and 
led him into the city. 

And after that they had gone through many 
streets they came to a little door that was set 
in a wall that was covered with a pomegranate 
tree. And the old man touched the door wdth 

[92] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



a ring of graved jasper and it opened, and they 
went down five steps of brass into a garden 
filled with black poppies and jars of burnt clay. 
And the old man took then from his turban a 
scarf of figured silk, and bound with it the eyes 
of the Star- Child, and drave him in front of him. 
And when the scarf was taken off his eyes, the 
Star-child found himself in a dungeon, that was 
lit by a lantern of horn. 

And the old man set before him some mouldy 
bread on a trencher and said, "Eat," and some 
brackish water in a cup and said, "Drink," and 
when he had eaten and drunk, the old man 
went out, locking the door behind him and 
fastening it with an iron chain. 

And on the morrow the old man, who was 

indeed the subtlest of the magicians of Libya 

and had learned his art from one who dwelt in 

the tombs of the Nile, came in to him and 

frowned at him, and said, "In a wood that is 

nigh to the gate of this city of Giaours there are 

three pieces of gold. One is of white gold, and 

another is of yellow gold, and the gold of the 

third one is red. To-day thou shalt bring me 

the piece of white gold, and if thou bringest it 

not back, I will beat thee with a hundred stripes. 

r OQ 1 

L ^^ i 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



Get thee away quickly, and at sunset I wiil be 
waiting for thee at the door of the garden. See 
that thou bringest the white gold, or it shall go 
ill with thee, for thou art my slave, and I have 
bought thee for the price of a bowl of sweet 
wine.'' And he bound the eyes of the Star- 
Child with the scarf of figured silk, and led him 
through the house, and through the garden of 
poppies, and up the five steps of brass. And 
having opened the little door with his ring he 
set him in the street. 

And the Star- Child went out of the gate of 
the city, and came to the wood of which the 
Magician had spoken to him. 

Now this wood was very fair to look at from 
without, and seemed full of singing birds and of 
sweet-scented flowers, and the Star-Child entered 
it gladly. Yet did its beauty profit him little, 
for wherever he went harsh briars and thorns 
shot up from the ground and encompassed him, 
and evil nettles stung him, and the thistle 
pierced him with her daggers, so that he was in 
sore distress. Nor could he anywhere find the 
piece of white gold of which the Magician had 
spoken, though he sought for it from morn to 
noon, and from noon to sunset. And at sun- 
set he set his face towards home, weeping bit- 

[94] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



terly, for he knew what fate was in store for 
him. 

But when he had reached the outskirts of the 
wood, he heard from a thicket a cry as of some- 
one in pain. And forgetting his own sorrow he 
ran back to the place, and saw there a little 
Hare caught in a trap that some hunter had set 
for it. ♦ 

And the Star- Child had pity on it, and re- 
leased it, and said to it, "I am myself but a 
slave, yet may I give thee thy freedom?" 

And the Hare answered him, and said: "Surely 
thou hast given me freedom, and what shall I 
give thee in return?" 

And the Star- Child said to it, "I am seeking 
for a piece of white gold, nor can I anywhere 
find it, and if I bring it not to my master he will 
beat me." 

'^Come thou with me," said the Hare, "and I 
will lead thee to it, for I know where it is hidden, 
and for what purpose." 

So the Star- Child went with the Hare, and lo! 
in the cleft of a great oak-tree he saw the piece of 
white gold that he was seeking. And he was 
filled with joy, and seized it, and said to the 
Hare, "The service that I did to thee thou hast 
rendered back again many times over, and the 

[95] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



kindness that I showed thee thou hast repaid a 
hundred fold.'' 

"Nay," answered the Hare, "but as thou dealt 
with me, so I did deal with thee,'' and it ran 
away quickly, and the Star- Child went towards 
the city. 

Now at the gate of the city there was seated 
one who was a leper. Over his face hung a 
cowl of grey linen, and through the eyelets his 
eyes gleamed like red coals. And when he saw 
the Star- Child coming, he struck upon a wooden 
bowl, and clattered his bell, and called out to 
him, and said, "Give me a piece of money, or 
I must die of hunger. For they have thrust me 
out of the city, and there is no one who has pity 
on me." 

"Alas!" cried the Star-Child, "I have but one 
piece of money in my wallet, and if I bring it not 
to my master he will beat me, for I am his slave." 

But the leper entreated him, and prayed of 
him, till the Star-Child had pity, and gave him 
the piece of white gold. 

And when he came to the Magician's house, 
the Magician opened to him, and brought him 
in, and said to him, "Hast thou the piece of 
white gold?" and the Star-Child answered, "I 
have it not." So the Magician fell upon him, 

[96] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



and beat him, and set before him an empty 
trencher, and said, "Eat," and an empty cup, 
and said, "Drink,'' and flung him again into the 
dungeon. 

And on the morrow the Magician came to 
him, and said, "If to-day thou bringest me not 
the piece of yellow gold, I will surely keep thee 
as my slave, and give thee three hundred 
stripes." 

So the Star- Child went to the wood, and all 
day long searched for the piece of yellow gold, 
but nowhere could he find it. And at sunset he 
sat him down and began to weep, and as he was 
weeping there came to him the little Hare that 
he had rescued from the trap. 

And the Hare said to him, "Why art thou 
weeping? And what dost thou seek in the 
wood?" 

And the Star- Child answered, "I am seeking 
for a piece of yellow gold that is hidden here, 
and if I find it not my master v/ill beat me, and 
keep me as a slave." 

"Follow me," cried the Hare, and it ran 
through the wood till it came to a pool of water. 
And at the bottom of the pool the piece of yellow 
gold was lying. 

How shall I thank thee?" said the Star- Child, 
7 [97] 



iC 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



"for lo! this is the second time that you have 
succoured me.'' 

"Nay, but thou hadst pity on me first," said 
the Hare, and it ran away swiftly. 

And the Star- Child took the piece of yellow 
gold, and put it in his wallet, and hurried to the 
city. But the leper saw him coming, and ran 
to meet him, and knelt down and cried, "Give 
me a piece of money or I shall die of hunger." 

And the Star-Child said to him, "I have in 
my wallet but one piece of yellow gold, and if I 
bring it not to my master he will beat me and 
keep me as his slave." 

But the leper entreated him sore, so that the 
Star-Child had pity on him, and gave him the 
piece of yellow gold. 

And when he came to the Magician's house, 
the Magician opened to him, and brought him 
in, and said to him, "Hast thou the piece of 
yellow gold?" And the Star- Child said to him, 
"I have it not." So the Magician fell upon 
him, and beat him, and loaded him with chains, 
and cast him again into the dungeon. 

And on the morrow the Magician came to 
him, and said, "If to-day thou bringest me 
the piece of red gold I will set thee free, but if 
thou bringest it not I will surely slay thee." 

[98] 



THE STAE-CHILD 



So the Star- Child went to the wood, and all 
day long he searched for the piece of red gold, 
but nowhere could he find it. And at evening 
he sat him down, and wept, and as he was weeping 
there came to him the little Hare. 

And the Hare said to him, "The piece of red 
gold that thou seekest is in the cavern that is 
behind thee. Therefore weep no more but be 
glad. " 

"How shall I reward thee," cried the Star- 
Child, "for lo! this is the third time thou hast 
succoured me.'' 

"Nay, but thou hadst pity on me first," said 
the Hare, and it ran away swiftly. 

And the Star- Child entered the cavern, and 
in its farthest corner he found the piece of red 
gold. So he put it in his wallet, and hurried to 
the city. And the leper seeing him coming, 
stood in the centre of the road, and cried out, 
and said to him, " Give me the piece of red money, 
or I must die," and the Star- Child had pity on 
him again, and gave him the piece of red gold, 
saying, "Thy need is greater than mine." Yet 
was his heart heavy, for he knew what evil fate 
awaited him. 

But lo! as he passed through the gate of the 
city, the guards bowed down and made obeisance 

[99] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



to him, saying, "How beautiful is our lord!" 
and a crowd of citizens followed him, and cried 
out, "Surely there is none so beautiful in the 
whole world!" so that the Star-Child wept, and 
said to himself, "They are mocking me, and 
making light of my misery," And so large was 
the concourse of the people, that he lost the 
threads of his way, and found himself at last in 
a great square, in which there was a palace of a 
King. 

And the gate of the palace opened, and the 
priests and the high officers of the city ran forth 
to meet him, and they abased themselves before 
him, and said, "Thou art our lord for whom we 
have been waiting, and the son of our King." 

And the Star- Child answered them and said, 
"I am no King's son, but the child, of a poor 
beggar-woman. And how say ye that I am 
beautiful, for I know that I am evil to look at?" 

Then he, whose armour was inlaid with gilt 
flowers, and on whose helmet couched a lion 
that had wings, held up a shield, and cried, 
"How saith my lord that he is not beautiful?" 

And the Star- Child looked, and lo! his face 
was even as it had been, and his comeliness had 
come back to him, and he saw that in his eyes 
which he had not seen there before. 

[100] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



And the priests and the high officers knelt 
down and said to him, " It was prophesied of old 
that on this day should come he who was to rule 
over us. Therefore, let our lord take this crown 
and this sceptre, and be in his justice and mercy 
our King over us." 

But he said to them, "I am not worthy, for 
I have denied the mother who bare me, nor may 
I rest till I have found her, and known her for- 
giveness. Therefore, let me go, for I must 
wander again over the world, and may not tarry 
here, though ye bring me the crown and the 
sceptre." And as he spake he turned his face 
from them towards the street that led to the gate 
of the city and, lo! amongst the crowd that 
pressed round the soldiers, he saw the beggar- 
woman who was his mother, and at her side stood 
the leper, who had sat by the road. 

And a cry of joy broke from his lips, and he 
ran over, and kneeling down he kissed the wounds 
on his mother's feet, and wet them with his tears. 
He bowed his head in the dust, and sobbing, as 
one whose heart might break, he said to her: 
" Mother, I denied thee in the hour of my pride. 
Accept me in the hour of my humility. Mother, 
I gave thee hatred. Do thou give me love. 
Mother, I rejected thee. Receive thy child 

[101] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



now." But the beggar-woman answered him not 
a word. 

And he reached out his hands, and clasped the 
white feet of the leper, and said to him: "Thrice 
did I give thee of my mercy. Bid my mother 
speak to me once." But the leper answered him 
not a word. 

And he sobbed again, and said: "Mother, 
my suffering is greater than I can bear. Give me 
thy forgiveness, and let me go back to the 
forest." And the beggar-woman put her hand 
on his head, and said to him, "Rise," and the 
leper put his hand on his head, and said to him 
"Rise," also. 

And he rose from his feet, and looked at them, 
and lo ! they were a King and a Queen. 

And the Queen said to him, "This iS thy father 
whom thou hast succoured." 

And the King said, "This is thy mother whose 
feet thou hast washed with thy tears." 

And they fell on his neck and kissed him, and 
brought him into the palace, and clothed him in 
fair raiment, and set the crown upon his head, 
and the sceptre in his hand, and over the city 
that stood by the river he ruled, and was its 
lord. Much justice and mercy did he show to 
all, and the evil Magician he banished, and to 

[102] 



THE STAR-CHILD 



the Woodcutter and his wife he sent many rich 
gifts, and to their children he gave high honour. 
Nor would he suffer any to be cruel to bird or 
beast, but taught love and loving-kindness and 
charity, and to the poor he gave bread, and to 
the naked he gave raiment, and there was peace 
and plenty in the land. 

Yet ruled he not long, so great had been his 
suffering, and so bitter the fire of his testing, for 
after the space of three years he died. And he 
who came after him ruled evilly. 



[103] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

EVERY evening the young Fisherman went 
out upon the sea, and threw his nets into 
the water. 

When the wind blew from the land he caught 
nothing, or but little at best, for it was a bitter 
and blackwinged wind, and rough waves rose up 
to meet it. But when the wind blew to the shore, 
the fish came in from the deep, and swam into 
the meshes of his nets, and he took them to the 
market-place and sold them. 

Every evening he went out upon the sea, and 
one evening the net was so heavy that hardly 
could he draw it into the boat. And he laughed, 
and said to himself, ^'Surely I have caught all 
the fish that swim, or snared some dull monster 
that will be a marvel to men, or some thing of 
horror that the great Queen will desire," and put- 
ting forth all his strength, he tugged at the coarse 
ropes till, like lines of blue enamel round a vase 
of bronze, the long veins rose up on his arms. He 
tugged at the thin ropes, and nearer and nearer 
came the circle of flat corks, and the net rose at 
last to the top of the water. 

[107] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



But no fish at all was in it, nor any monster or 
thing of horror, but only a little Mermaid lying 
fast asleep. 

Her hair was as a wet fleece of gold, and each 
separate hair as a thread of fine gold in a cup of 
glass. Her body was as white ivory, and her 
tail was of silver and pearl. Silver and pearl 
was her tail, and the green weeds of the sea coiled 
round it; and like sea-shells were her ears, and 
her lips were like sea-coral. The cold waves 
dashed over her cold breasts, and the salt 
glistened upon her eyelids. 

So beautiful was she that when the young 
Fisherman saw her he was filled with wonder, and 
he put out his hand and drew the net close to him, 
and leaning over the side he clasped her in his 
arms. And when he touched her, she gave a 
cry like a startled sea-gull and woke, and looked 
at him in terror with her mauve-amethyst eyes, 
and struggled that she might escape. But he 
held her tightly to him, and would not suffer her 
to depart. 

And when she saw that she could in no way 
escape from him, she began to weep, and said, 
'^ I pray thee let me go, for I am the only daughter 
of a King, and my father is aged and alone. '^ 

But the young Fisherman answered, "I will 

[108] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

not let thee go save thou makest me a promise 
that whenever I call thee, thou wilt come and 
sing to me, for the fish delight to listen to the 
song of the Sea-folk, and so shall my nets be 
fuU." 

" Wilt thou in very truth let me go, if I promise 
thee this?" cried the Mermaid. 

"In very truth I will let thee go," said the 
young Fisherman. 

So she made him the promise he desired, and 
sware it by the oath of the Sea-folk. And he 
loosened his arms from about her, and she sank 
down into the water, trembling with a strange 
fear. 

Every evening the young Fisherman went out 
upon the sea, and called to the Mermaid, and 
she rose out of the water and sang to him. 
Round and round her swam the dolphins, and 
the wild gulls wheeled above her head. 

And she sang a marvellous song. For she 
sang of the Sea-folk who drive their flocks from 
cave to cave, and carry the little calves on their 
shoulders; of the Tritons who have long green 
beards, and hairy breasts, and blow through 
twisted conchs when the King passes by; of the 
palace of the King which is all of amber, with a 

[109] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



roof of clear emerald, and a pavement of bright 
pearl; and of the gardens of the sea where the 
great filigrane fans of coral wave all day long, 
and the fish dart about like silver birds, and the 
anemones cling to the rocks, and the pinks 
bourgeon in the ribbed yellow sand. She sang 
of the big whales that come down from the 
north seas and have sharp icicles hanging to 
their fins; of the Sirens who tell of such wonder- 
ful things that the merchants have to stop their 
ears with wax lest they should hear them, and 
leap into the water and be drowned; of the sunken 
galleys with their tall masts, and the frozen 
sailors clinging to the rigging, and the mackerel 
swimming in and out of the open portholes; of 
the little barnacles who are great travellers, and 
cling to the keels of the ships and go round and 
round the world; and of the cuttle-fish who live 
in the sides of the cliffs and stretch out their long 
black arms, and can make night come when they 
will it. She sang of the nautilus who has a boat 
of her own that is carved out of an opal and 
steered with a silken sail; of the happy Mermen 
who play upon harps and can charm the great 
Kraken to sleep; of the little children who catch 
hold of the slippery porpoises and ride laughing 
upon their backs; of the Mermaids who lie in 

[110] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

the white foam and hold out their arms to the 
mariners; and of the sea-lions with their curved 
tusks, and the sea-horses with their floating 
manes. 

And as she sang, all the tunny-fish came in 
from the deep to listen to her, and the young 
Fisherman threw his nets round them and caught 
them, and others he took with a spear. And 
when his boat was well-laden, the Mermaid 
would sink down into the sea, smiling at him. 

Yet would she never come near him that he 
might touch her. Oftentimes he called to her, 
and prayed of her, but she would not; and when 
he sought to seize her she dived into the water 
as a seal might dive, nor did he see her again that 
day. And each day the sound of her voice be- 
came sweeter to his ears. So sweet was her voice 
that he forgot his nets and his cunning, and had 
no care of his craft. Vermilion-finned and with 
eyes of bossy gold, the tunnies went by in shoals, 
but he heeded them not. His spear lay by his 
side unused, and his baskets of plaited osier were 
empty. With lips parted, and eyes dim with 
wonder, he sat idle in his boat and listened, 
listening till the sea-mists crept round him, and 
the wandering moon stained his brown limbs with 
silver. 

[Ill] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



And one evening he called to her, and said: 
"Little Mermaid, little Mermaid, I love thee. 
Take me for thy bridegroom, for I love 
thee." 

But the Mermaid shook her head. "Thou 
hast a human soul," she answered. "If only 
thou would' st send away thy soul, then could I 
love thee." 

And the young Fisherman said to himself, 
"Of what use is my soul to me? I cannot see it. 
I may not touch it. I do not know it. Surely 
I will send it away from me, and much gladness 
shall be mine." And a cry of joy broke from his 
lips, and standing up in the painted boat, he 
held out his arms to the Mermaid. "I will send 
my soul away," he cried, "and you shall be my 
bride, and I wiU be thy bridegroom, and in the 
depth of the sea we will dwell together, and all 
that thou hast sung of thou shalt show me, and 
all that thou desirest I will do, nor shall our lives 
be divided." 

And the Httle Mermaid laughed for pleasure, 
and hid her face in her hands. 

"But how shall I send my soul from me?" 
cried the young Fisherman. "Tell me how I 
may do it, and lo! it shall be done." 

"Alas! I know not," said the little Mermaid: 

[112] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

*Hhe Sea-folk have no souls/^ And she sank 
down into the deep, looking wistfully at him. 

Now early on the next morning, before the sun 
was the span of a man's hand above the hill, the 
young Fisherman went to the house of the Priest 
and knocked three times at the door. 

The novice looked out through the wicket, and 
when he saw who it was, he drew back the latch 
and said to him, "Enter." 

And the young Fisherman passed in, and knelt 
down on the sweet-smelling rushes of the floor, 
and cried to the Priest who was reading out of 
the Holy Book and said to him, "Father, I am 
in love with one of the Sea-folk, and my soul 
hindereth me from having my desire. Tell me 
how I can send my soul away from me, for in 
truth I have no need of it. Of what value is my 
soul to me? I cannot see it. I may not touch 
it. I do not know it." 

And the Priest beat his breast, and answered, 
"Alack, Alack, thou art mad, or hast eaten some 
poisonous herb, for the soul is the noblest part 
of man, and was given to us by God that we 
should nobly use it. There is no thing more 
precious than a human soul, nor any earthly 
thing that can be weighted with it. It is worth 
all the gold that is in the world, and is more 
8 [113] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



precious than the rubies of the kings. There- 
fore, my son, think not any more of this matter, 
for it is a sin that may not be forgiven. And as 
for the Sea-folk, they are lost, and they who 
would trafhc with them are lost also. They are 
as the beasts of the field that know not good from 
evil, and for them the Lord has not died." 

The young Fisherman's eyes filled with tears 
when he heard the bitter words of the Priest, 
and he rose up from his knees and said to him, 
'' Father, the Fauns live in the forest and are 
glad, and on the rocks sit the Mermen with their 
harps of red gold. Let me be as they are, I 
beseech thee, for their days are as the days of 
flowers, and as for my soul, what doth my soul 
profit me, if it stand between me and the thing 
that I love?" 

*^The love of the body is vile," cried the Priest, 
knitting his brows, "and vile and evil are the 
pagan things God suffers to wander through His 
world. Accursed be the Fauns of the woodland, 
and accursed be the singers of the sea! I have 
heard them at night-time, and they have sought 
to lure me from my beads. They tap at the 
window, and laugh. They whisper into my ears 
the tale of their perilous joys. They tempt me 
with temptations, and when I would pray they 

[114] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

make mouths at me. They are lost, I tell thee, 
they are lost. For them there is no heaven nor 
hell, and in neither shall they praise God's name." 

^^ Father," cried the young Fisherman, ^'thou 
knowest not what thou sayest. Once in my net 
I snared the daughter of a King. She is fairer 
than the morning star, and whiter than the moon. 
For her body I w^ould give my soul, and for her 
love I w^ould surrender heaven. Tell me what 
I ask of thee, and let me go in peace." 

"Away! away!" cried the Priest: "thy leman 
is lost, and thou shalt be lost with her." And 
he gave him no blessing, but drove him from his 
door. 

And the young Fisherman went down into 
the market-place, and he walked slowly, and 
with bowed head, as one who is in sorrow. 

And when the merchants saw him coming, 
they began to whisper to each other, and one of 
them came forth to meet him, and called him by 
name, and said to him, "What hast thou to sell?" 

"I will seU thee my soul," he answered: "I 
pray thee buy it of me, for I am weary of it. 
Of what use is my soul to me? I cannot see it. 
I may not touch it. I do not know it." 

But the merchants mocked at him, and said, 
"Of what use is a man's soul to us? It is not 

[115] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



worth a clipped piece of silver. Sell us thy 
body for a slave, and we will clothe thee in sea- 
purple, and put a ring upon thy finger, and make 
thee the minion of the great Queen. But talk 
not of the soul, for to us it is nought, nor has it 
any value for our service." 

And the young Fisherman said to himself: 
"How strange a thing this is! The Priest telle th 
me that the soul is worth all the gold in the world, 
and the merchants say that it is not worth a 
clipped piece of silver." And he passed out of the 
market-place, and went down to the shore of the 
sea, and began to ponder on what he should do. 

And at noon he remembered how one of his 
companions, who was a gatherer of samphire, 
had told him of a certain young Witch. who dwelt 
in a cave at the head of the bay and was very 
cunning in her witcheries. And he set to and 
ran, so eager was he to get rid of his soul, and a 
cloud of dust followed him as he sped round the 
sand of the shore. By the itching of her palm the 
young Witch knew his coming, and she laughed 
and let down her red hair. With her red hair 
falling around her, she stood at the opening of 
the cave, and in her hand she had a spray of wild 
hemlock that was blossoming. 

[116] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

'^What d'ye lack? What d^e lack?'' she 
cried, as he came panting up the steep, and bent 
down before her. "Fish for thy net, when the 
wind is foul? I have a little reed-pipe, and when 
I blow on it the mullet come sailing into the bay. 
But it has a price, pretty boy, it has a price. 
What d'ye lack? What d'ye lack? A storm to 
wreck the ships, and wash the chests of rich 
treasure ashore? I have more storms than the 
wind has, for I serve one who is stronger than the 
wind, and with a sieve and a pail of water I can 
send the great galleys to the bottom of the sea. 
But I have a price, pretty boy, I have a price. 
What d'ye lack? What d'ye lack? I know a 
flower that grows in the valley, none knows it 
but I. It has purple leaves, and a star in its 
heart, and its juice is as white as milk. Shoulds't 
thou touch with this flower the hard lips of the 
Queen, she would follow thee all over the world. 
Out of the bed of the King she would rise, and 
over the whole world she would follow thee. And 
it has a price, pretty boy, it has a price. What 
d'ye lack? What d'ye lack? I can pound a toad 
in a mortar, and make broth of it and stir the broth 
with a dead man's hand. Sprinkle it on thine 
enemy while he sleeps, and he will turn into a 
black viper, and his own mother will slay him. 

[117] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



With a wheel I can draw the Moon from heaven, 
and in a crystal I can show thee Death. What 
d'ye lack? What d'ye lack? Tell me thy desire, 
and I will give it thee, and thou shalt pay me a 
price, pretty boy, thou shalt pay me a price." 

"My desire is but for a little thing," said the 
young Fisherman, "yet hath the priest been 
wroth with me, and driven me forth. It is but 
for a little thing, and the merchants have mocked 
at me, and denied me. Therefore am I come to 
thee, though men call thee evil, and whatever be 
thy price I shall pay it." 

"What would'st thou?" asked the Witch, 
coming near to him. 

"I would send my soul away from me," 
answered the young Fisherman. 

The Witch grew pale and shuddered, and hid 
her face in her blue mantle. "Pretty boy, 
pretty boy," she muttered, *^that is a terrible 
thing to do." 

He tossed his brown curls and laughed. "My 
soul is nought to me," he answered. "I cannot 
see it. I may not touch it. I do not know it." 

"What wilt thou give me if I tell thee?" asked 
the Witch, looking down at him with her beauti- 
ful eyes. 

"Five pieces of gold," he said, "and my nets, 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

and the wattled house where I live, and the 
painted boat in which I sail. Only tell me how 
to get rid of my soul, and I will give thee all that 
I possess." 

She laughed mockingly at him, and struck 
him with the spray of hemlock. ^*I can turn 
the autumn leaves into gold,'' she answered, 
"and I can weave the pale moonbeams into 
silver if I will it. He whom I serve is richer 
than all the kings of this world and has their 
dominions." 

"What then shall I give thee," he cried, "if 
thy price be neither gold nor silver?" 
The Witch stroked his hair with her thin 
white hand. "Thou must dance with me, pretty 
boy," she murmured, and she smiled at him as 
she spoke. 

"Nought but that?" cried the young Fisherman 
in wonder, and he rose to his feet. 

"Nought but that," she answered, and she 
smiled at him again. 

"Then at sunset in some secret place we shall 
dance together," he said, "and after that we 
have danced thou shalt tell me the thing which I 
desire to know." 

She shook her head. "When the moon is 
full, when the moon is full," she muttered. Then 

[119] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



she peered all round, and listened. A blue bird 
rose screaming from its nest and circled over the 
dunes, and three spotted birds rustled through 
the coarse grey grass, and whistled to each other. 
There was no other sound save the sound of a 
wave fretting the smooth pebbles below. So she 
reached out her hand, and drew him near to her 
and put her dry lips close to his ear. 

"To-night thou must come to the top of the 
mountain," she whispered, "It is a Sabbath, and 
He will be there." 

"The young Fisherman started and looked at 
her, and she showed her white teeth and laughed. 
"Who is He of whom thou speakest?" he asked. 

"It matters not," she answered. "Go thou 
to-night, and stand under the branches of the 
hornbeam, and wait for my coming. If a black 
dog run towards thee, strike it with a rod of 
willow, and it will go away. If an owl speak to 
thee, make it no answer. When the moon is 
fuU I shall be with thee, and we will dance to- 
gether on the grass." 

"But wilt thou swear to me to tell me how I 
may send my soul from me?" he made question. 

She moved out into the sunhght, and through 
her red hair rippled the wind. "By the hoofs of 
the goat I swear it/' she made answer. 

[120] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

"Thou art the best of the witches/' cried the 
young Fisherman, "and I will surely dance with 
thee to-night on the top of the mountain. I 
would indeed that thou hadst asked of me either 
gold or silver. But such as thy price is thou, 
shalt have it, for it is but a little thing.'' And he 
doffed his cap to her, and bent his head low, and 
ran back to the town filled with a great joy. 

And the Witch watched him as he went, and 
when he had passed from her sight she entered 
her cave, and having taken a mirror from a box 
of carved cedarwood, she set it up on a frame, 
and burned vervain on lighted charcoal before 
it, and peered through the coils of the smoke. 
And after a time she clenched her hands in anger. 
"He should have been mine," she muttered, "I 
am as fair as she is." 

And that evening, when the moon had risen, 
the young Fisherman climbed up to the top of 
the mountain, and stood under the branches of 
the hornbeam. Like a targe of polished metal 
the round sea lay at his feet, and the shadows of 
the fishing boats moved in the little bay. A great 
owl, with yellow sulphurous eyes, called to him 
by his name, but he made it no answer. A black 
dog ran towards him and snarled. He struck it 
with a rod of willow, and it went away whining. 

[121] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



At midnight the witches came flying through 
the air like bats. "Phew!" they cried, as they 
lit upon the ground, "there is someone here we 
know not!" and they sniffed about, and chattered 
to each other, and made signs. Last of all came 
the young Witch, with her red hair streaming in 
the wind. She wore a dress of gold tissue em- 
broidered with peacock's eyes, and a little cap of 
green velvet was on her head. 

"Where is he, where is he?" shrieked the 
witches when they saw her, but she only laughed, 
and ran to the hornbeam, and taking the Fisher- 
man by the hand she led him out into the moon- 
light and began to dance. 

Round and round they whirled, and the young 
Witch jumped so high that he could see the scar- 
let heels of her shoes. Then right -across the 
dancers came the sound of the galloping of a 
horse, but no horse was to be seen, and he felt 
afraid. 

"Faster," cried the Witch, and she threw her 
arms about his neck, and her breath was hot upon 
his face. "Faster, faster!" she cried, and the 
earth seemed to spin beneath his feet, and his 
brain grew troubled, and a great terror fell on 
him, as of some evil thing that was watching 
him, and at last he became aware that under the 

[122] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

shadow of a rock there was a figure that had not 
been there before. 

It was a man dressed in a suit of black vel- 
vet, cut in the Spanish fashion. His face was 
strangely pale, but his lips were like a proud red 
flower. He seemed weary, and was leaning back 
toying in a listless manner with the pommel 
of his dagger. On the grass beside him lay 
a plumed hat, and a pair of riding gloves gaunt- 
leted with gilt lace, and sewn with seed-pearls 
wrought into a curious device. A short cloak 
lined with sables hung from his shoulder, and 
his delicate white hands were gemmed with 
rings. Heavy eyelids drooped over his eyes. 

The young Fisherman watched him, as one 
snared in a spell. At last their eyes met, and 
wherever he danced it seemed to him that the 
eyes of the man were upon him. He heard the 
Witch laugh, and caught her by the waist, and 
whirled her madly round and round. 

Suddenly a dog bayed in the wood, and the 
dancers stopped, and going up two by two, knelt 
down, and kissed the man's hands. As they did 
so, a little smile touched his proud lips, as a 
bird's wing touches the water and makes it laugh. 
But there was disdain in it. He kept looking at 
the young Fisherman. 

[123 J 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



^' Come! let us worship/' whispered the Witch, 
and she led him up, and a great desire to do as 
she besought him seized on him, and he followed 
her. But when he came close, and without 
knowing why he did it, he made on his breast the 
sign of the Cross, and called upon the holy name. 

No sooner had he done so than the witches 
screamed like hawks and flew away, and the 
pallid face that had been watching him twitched 
with a spasm of pain. The man went over to a 
little wood, and whistled. A jennet with silver 
trappings came running to meet him. As he 
leapt upon the saddle he turned round, and looked 
at the young Fisherman sadly. 

And the Witch with the red hair tried to fly 
away also, but the Fisherman caught her by her 
wrists, and held her fast. 

^'Loose me,'' she cried, "and let me go. For 
thou hast named what should not be named, and 
shown the sign that may not be looked at." 

"Nay," he answered, "but I will not let thee 
go till thou hast told me the secret." 

"What secret?" said the Witch, wrestling with 
him like a wild cat, and biting her foam-flecked 
lips. 

"Thou knowest," he made answer. 

Her grass-green eyes grew dim with tears, and 

[124] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

she said to the Fisherman, "Ask me anything 
but that!" 

He laughed, and held her all the more tightly. 

And when she saw that she could not free her- 
self, she whispered to him, "Surely I am as fair 
as the daughters of the sea, and as comely as 
those that dwell in the blue waters,'' and she 
fawned on him and put her face close to his. 

But he thrust her back frowning, and said to 
her, "If thou keepest not the promise that thou 
madest to me I will slay thee for a false witch.'' 

She grew grey as a blossom of the Judas tree, 
and shuddered. "Be it so," she muttered. "It 
is thy soul and not mine. Do with it as thou 
wilt." And she took from her girdle a httle 
knife that had a handle of green viper's skin, and 
gave it to him. 

"What shall this serve me?" he asked of her 
wondering. 

She was silent for a few moments, and a look 
of terror came over her face. Then she brushed 
her hair back from her forehead, and smiling 
strangely she said to him, "What men call the 
shadow of the body is not the shadow of the body, 
but is the body of the soul. Stand on the sea- 
shore with thy back to the moon, and cut away 
from around thy feet thy shadow, which is thy 

[125] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



souPs body, and bid thy soul leave thee, and it 
will do so." 

The young Fisherman trembled. "Is this 
true?" he murmured. 

"It is true, and I would that I had not told 
thee of it," she cried, and she clung to his knees 
weeping. 

He put her from him and left her in the rank 
grass, and going to the edge of the mountain he 
placed the knife in his belt, and began to climb 
down. 

And his Soul that was within him called out 
to him and said, "Lo! I have dwelt with thee 
for all these years, and have been thy servant. 
Send me not away from thee now, for what evil 
have I done thee?" 

And the young Fisherman laughed.* "Thou 
hast done me no evil, but I have no need of thee," 
he answered. "The world is wide, and there is 
Heaven also, and Hell, and that dim twilight 
house that lies between. Go wherever thou wilt, 
but trouble me not, for my love is calling to me." 

And his Soul besought him piteously, but he 
heeded it not, but leapt from crag to crag, being 
sure-footed as a wild goat, and at last he reached 
the level ground and the yellow shore of the sea. 

Bronze-limbed and well-knit, like a statue 

[126] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

wrought by a Grecian, he stood on the sand with 
his back to the moon, and out of the foam came 
white arms that beckoned to him, and out of the 
waves rose dim forms that did him homage. 
Before him lay his shadow, which was the body 
of the soul, and behind him hung the moon in 
the honey-coloured air. 

And his Soul said to him, "If indeed thou must 
drive me from thee, send me not forth without a 
heart. The world is cruel, give me thy heart to 
take with me." 

He tossed his head and smJled. "With what 
should I love my love if I gave thee my heart?" 
he cried. 

"Nay, but be merciful," said his Soul: "give 
me thy heart, for the world is very cruel, and I 
am afraid." 

" My heart is my love's," he answered, " there- 
fore tarry not, but get thee gone." 

"Should I not love also?" asked his Soul. 

"Get thee gone, for I have no need of thee," 
cried the young Fisherman, and he took the 
little knife with its handle of green viper's skin, 
and cut away his shadow from around his feet, 
and it rose up and stood before him, and looked 
at him, and it was even as himself. 

He crept back and thrust the knife into his 

[127] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



belt, and a feeling of awe came over him. " Get 
thee gone/' he murmured, "and let me see thy 
face no more.'' 

"Nay, but we must meet again," said the Soul. 
Its voice was low and flute-like, and its lips hardly 
moved while it spake. 

"How shall we meet?" cried the young Fisher- 
man. " Thou wilt not follow me into the depths 
of the sea?" 

"Once every year I will come to this place, 
and call to thee," said the Soul. "It may be 
that thou wilt have need of me." 

"What need should I have of thee?" cried 
the young Fisherman, "but be it as thou wilt," 
and he plunged into the water, and the Tritons 
blew their horns, and the little Mermaid rose up 
to meet him, and put her arms around his neck 
and kissed him on the mouth. 

And the Soul stood on the lonely beach and 
watched them. And when they had sunk down 
into the sea, it went weeping away over the 
marshes. 

And after a year was over the Soul came down 
to the shore of the sea and called to the young 
Fisherman, and he rose out of the deep and said, 
"Why dost thou call to me?" 

And the Soul answered, " Come nearer, that I 

[128] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

may speak with thee, for I have seen marvellous 
things." 

So he came nearer, and couched in the shallow 
water, and leaned his head upon his hand and 
listened. 

And the Soul said to him, " When I left thee 
I turned my face to the East and journeyed. 
From the East cometh everything that is wise. 
Six days I journeyed, and on the morning of the 
seventh day I came to a hill that is in the country 
of the Tartars. I sat down under the shade of a 
tamarisk tree to shelter myself from the sun. 
The land was dry, and burnt up with the heat. 
The people went to and fro over the plain like 
flies crawling upon a disk of polished copper. 

"When it was noon a cloud of red dust rose up 
from the flat rim of the land. When the Tartars 
saw it, they strung their painted bows, and having 
leapt upon their little horses they galloped to 
meet it. The women fled to the waggons, and hid 
themselves behind the felt curtains. 

"At twilight the Tartars returned, but five of 
them were missing, and of those that came back 
not a few had been wounded. They harnessed 
their horses to the waggons and drove hastily 
away. Three jackals came out of a cave and 
peered after them. Then they sniffed up the 
9 [ 129 ] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



air with their nostrils, and trotted off in the 
opposite direction. 

"When the moon rose I saw a campfire burning 
on the plain, and went towards it. A company of 
merchants were seated round it on carpets. Their 
camels were picketed behind them, and the 
negroes who were their servants were pitching 
tents of tanned skin upon the sand, and making 
a high wall of the prickly pear. 

"As I came near them, the chief of the mer- 
chants rose up and drew his sword, and asked me 
my business. 

" I answered that I was a prince in my own land, 
and that I had escaped from the Tartars, who 
had sought to make me their slave. The chief 
smiled, and showed me five heads fixed upon long 
reeds of bamboo. 

"Then he asked me who was the prophet of 
God, and I answered him Mohammed. 

" When he heard the name of the false prophet, 
he bowed and took me by the hand, and placed 
me by his side. A negro brought me some 
mare's milk in a wooden dish, and a piece of 
lamb's flesh roasted. 

"At daybreak we started on our journey. I 
rode on a red-haired camel by the side of the chief, 
and a runner ran before us carrying a spear. 

[130] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

The men of war were on either hand, and the 
mules followed with the merchandise. There 
were forty camels in the caravan, and the mules 
were twice forty in number. 

'^We went from the country of the Tartars 
into the country of those who curse the Moon. 
We saw the Gryphons guarding their gold on 
the white rocks, and the scaled Dragons sleeping 
in their caves. As we passed over the mountains 
we held our breath lest the snows might fall on 
us, and each man tied a veil of gauze before his 
eyes. As we passed through the valleys the 
Pygmies shot arrows at us from the hollows of 
the trees, and at night time we heard the wild 
men beating on their drums. When we came to 
the Tower of Apes we set fruits before them, and 
they did not harm us. When we came to the 
Tower of Serpents we gave them warm milk in 
bowls of brass, and they let us go by. Three 
times in our journey we came to the banks of 
the Oxus. We crossed it on rafts of wood with 
great bladders of blown hide. The river-horses 
raged against us and sought to slay us. When the 
camels saw them they trembled. 

"The kings of each city levied tolls on us, but 
would not suffer us to enter their gates. They 
threw bread over the walls, little maize-cakes 

[131] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



baked in honey and cakes of fine flour filled with 
dates. For every hundred baskets we gave 
them a bead of amber. 

**When the dwellers in the villages saw us 
coming, they poisoned the wells and fled to the 
hill-summits. We fought with the Magadae who 
are born old, and grow younger and younger 
every year, and die when they are little children; 
and with the Laktroi who say that they are the 
sons of tigers, and paint themselves yellow and 
black; and with the Aurantes who bury their 
dead on the tops of trees, and themselves live in 
dark caverns lest the Sun, who is their god, should 
slay them; and with the Krimnians who worship 
a crocodile, and give it earrings of green glass, and 
feed it with butter and fresh fowls; and with the 
Agazonbae, who are dog-faced; and with the 
Sidans, who have horses' feet, and run more 
swiftly than horses. A third of our company 
died in battle, and a third died of want. The 
rest murmured against me, and said that I had 
brought them an evil fortune. I took a horned 
adder from beneath a stone, and let it sting me. 
When they saw that I did not sicken they grew 
afraid. 

*'In the fourth month we reached the city of 
Illel. It was night time when we came to the 

[132] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

grove that is outside the walls, and the air was 
sultry, for the Moon was travelling in Scorpion. 
We took the ripe pomegranates from the trees, 
and brake them and drank their sweet juices. 
Then we lay down on our carpets and waited for 
the dawn. 

"And at dawn we rose and knocked at the 
gate of the city. It was wrought out of red 
bronze, and carved with sea-dragons and dragons 
that have wings. The guards looked down from 
the battlements, and asked us our business. The 
interpreter of the caravan answered that we had 
come from the island of Syria with much merchan- 
dise. They took hostages, and told us that they 
would open the gate to us at noon, and bade us 
tarry till then. 

" When it was noon they opened the gate, and 
as we entered in the people came crowding out 
of the houses to look at us, and a crier went round 
the city crying through a shell. We stood in the 
market-place, and the negroes uncorded the 
bales of figured cloths and opened the carved 
chests of sycamore. And when they had ended 
their task, the merchants set forth their strange 
wares, the waxed linen from Egypt and the 
painted linen from the country of the Ethiops, the 
purple sponges from Tyre and the blue hangings 

[133] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



from Sidon, the cups of cold amber and the fine 
vessels of glass and the curious vessels of burnt 
clay. From the roof of a house a company of 
women watched us. One of them wore a mask 
of gilded leather. 

"And on the first day the priests came and 
bartered with us, and on the second day came the 
nobles, and on the third day came the craftsmen 
and the slaves. And this is their custom with 
all merchants as long as they tarry in the city. 

"And we tarried for a moon, and when the 
moon was waning, I wearied and wandered away 
through the streets of the city and came to the 
garden of its god. The priests in their yellow 
robes moved silently through the green trees, and 
on a pavement of black marble stood the rose-red 
house in which the god has his dwelling. Its 
doors were of powdered lacquer, and buUs and 
peacocks were wrought on them in raised and 
polished gold. The tiled roof was of sea-green 
porcelain, and the jutting eaves were festooned 
with little bells. When the white doves flew past, 
they struck the bells with their wings and made 
them tinkle. 

"In front of the temple was a pool of clear 
water paved with veined onyx. I lay down beside 
it, and with my pale fingers I touched the broad 

[134] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

leaves. One of the priests came towards me and 
stood behind me. He had sandals on his feet, 
one of soft serpent-skin and the other of birds' 
plumage. On his head was a mitre of black felt 
decorated with silver crescents. Seven yellows 
were woven into his robe, and his frizzed hair was 
stained wath antimony. 

"After a little while he spake to me, and asked 
me my desire. 

"I told him that my desire was to see the god. 

"'The god is hunting,' said the priest, looking 
strangely at me with his small slanting eyes. 

"'Tell me in what forest, and I will ride with 
him,' I answered. 

"He combed out the soft fringes of his tunic 
with his long pointed nails. 

'The god is asleep,' he murmured. 
'Tell me on what couch, and I will watch by 
him,' I answered. 

^The god is at the feast,' he cried. 
Tf the wine be sweet I will drink it with him, 
and if it be bitter I will drink it with him also,' 
was my answer. 

"He bowed his head in wonder, and, taking 
me by the hand, he raised me up, and led me into 
the temple. 

"And in the first chamber I saw an idol seated 

[135] 






li (- 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



on a throne of jasper bordered with great orient 
pearls. It was carved out of ebony, and in stat- 
ure was of the stature of a man. On its forehead 
was a ruby, and thick oil dripped from its hair 
on to its thighs. Its feet were red with the 
blood of a newly-slain kid, and its loins girt with 
a copper belt that was studded with seven beryls. 

"And I said to the priest, 'Is this the god?' 
And he answered me, 'This is the god.' 

"'Show me the god,' I cried, 'or I will surely 
slay thee.' And I touched his hand, and it 
became withered. 

"And the priest besought me, saying, 'Let my 
lord heal his servant, and I will show him the 
god.' 

"So I breathed with my breath upon his hand, 
and it became whole again, and he trembled and 
led me into the second chamber, and I saw an 
idol standing on a lotus of jade hung with great 
emeralds. It was carved out of ivory, and in 
stature was twice the stature of a man. On its 
forehead was a chrysolite and its breasts were 
smeared with myrrh and cinnamon. In one 
hand it held a crooked sceptre of jade, and in the 
other, a round crystal. It wore buskins of brass, 
and its thick neck was circled with a circle of 
selenites. 

[136] 



THE FISHEHMAN AND HIS SOUL 

"And I said to the priest, 'Is this the god?' 
And he answered me, 'This is the god.' 

"'Show me the god,' I cried, 'or I will surely 
slay thee,' and I touched his eyes, and they 
became blind. 

"And the priest besought me, saying, 'Let my 
lord heal his servant, and I will show him the 
god.' 

"So I breathed with my breath upon his eyes, 
and the sight came back to them, and he trembled 
again, and led me into the third chamber, and lo ! 
there was no idol in it, nor image of any kind, 
but only a mirror of round metal set on an altar 
of stone. 

"And I said to the priest, 'Where is the god?' 

"And he answered me: ^ There is no god but 
this mirror that thou seest, for this is the Mirror 
of Wisdom. And it refiecteth all things that are 
in heaven and on earth, save only the face of him 
who looketh into it. This it refiecteth not, so 
that he who looketh into it may be wise. Many 
other mirrors are there, but they are Mirrors of 
Opinion. This only is the Mirror of Wisdom. 
And they who possess this mirror know every- 
thing, nor is there anything hidden from them. 
And they who possess it not have not Wisdom. 
Therefore is it the god, and we worship it.' And 

[137] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



I looked into the mirror, and it was even as he 
had said to me. 

"And I did a strange thing, but what I did 
matters not, for in a valley that is but a day's 
journey from this place have I hidden the Mirror 
of Wisdom. Do but suffer me to enter into thee 
again and be thy servant, and thou shalt be wiser 
than all the wise men, and Wisdom shall be thine. 
Suffer me to enter into thee, and none will be as 
wise as thou.'* 

But the young Fisherman laughed. "Love is 
better than Wisdom," he cried, "and the little 
Mermaid loves me." 

"Nay, but there is nothing better than Wis- 
dom," said the Soul. 

"Love is better," answered the young Fisher- 
man, and he plunged into the deep, and the Soul 
went weeping away over the marshes. 

And after the second year was over the Soul 
came down to the shore of the sea, and called to 
the young Fisherman, and he rose out of the deep 
and said, "Why dost thou call me?" 

And the Soul answered, " Come nearer that I may 
speak with thee, for I have seen marvellous things." 

So he came nearer, and couched in the shallow 
water, and leaned his head upon his hand and 
listened. 

[138] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

And the Soul said to him, ^'When I left thee, 
I turned my face to the South and journeyed. 
From the South cometh everything that is 
precious. Six days I journeyed along the high- 
ways that lead to the city of Ashter, along the 
dusty red-dyed highways by which the pilgrims 
are wont to go did I journey, and on the morning 
of the seventh day I lifted up my eyes, and lo! 
the city lay at my feet, for it is in a valley. 

"There are nine gates to this city, and in front 
of each gate stands a bronze horse that neighs 
when the Bedouins come down from the moun- 
tains. The walls are cased with copper, and the 
watch-towers on the waUs are roofed with brass. 
In every tower stands an archer with a bow in 
hand. At sunrise he strikes with an arrow on a 
gong, and at sunset he blows through a horn of 
horn. 

"When I sought to enter, the guards stopped 
me and asked of me who I was. I made answer 
that I was a Dervish and on my way to the city 
of Mecca, where there was a green veil on which 
the Koran was embroidered in silver letters by 
the hands of the angels. They were filled with 
wonder, and entreated me to pass in. 

"Inside it is even as a bazaar. Surely thou 
should' st have been with me. Across the narrow 

[139] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



streets the gay lanterns of paper flutter like large 
butterflies. When the wind blows over the roof 
they rise and fall as painted bubbles do. In 
front of their booths sit the merchants on silken 
carpets. They have straight black beards, and 
their turbans are covered with golden sequins, 
long strings of amber and carved peach-stones 
glide through their cool fingers. Some of them 
sell galabanum and nard, and curious perfumes 
from the islands of the Indian Sea, and the thick 
oil of red roses, and myrrh and little nail-shaped 
cloves. When one stops to speak to them, they 
throw pinches of frankincense upon a charcoal 
brazier and make the air sweet. I saw a Syrian 
who held in his hands a thin rod like a reed. Grey 
threads of smoke came from it, and its odour as 
it burned was as the odour of the pink ahnond in 
spring. Others sell silver bracelets embossed all 
over with creamy blue turquoise stones, and 
anklets of brass wire fringed with little pearls, 
and tigers' claws set in gold, and the claws of 
that gilt cat, the leopard, set in gold also, and 
ear-rings of pierced emerald, and finger-rings of 
hollowed jade. From the tea-houses comes the 
sound of the guitar, and the opium-smokers 
with their white smiling faces look out at the 
passers-by. 

[140] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

"Of a truth thou should'st have been with me. 
The wine-sellers elbow their way through the 
crowd with great black skins on their shoulders. 
Most of them sell the wine of Schiraz, which is as 
sweet as honey. They serve it in little metal 
cups and strew rose leaves upon it. In the 
market-place stand the fruitsellers, who sell all 
kinds of fruit: ripe figs, with their bruised purple 
flesh, melons, smelling of musk and yellow as 
topazes, citrons and rose-apples and clusters of 
white grapes, round red-gold oranges, and oval 
lemons of green gold. Once I saw an elephant 
go by. Its trunk was painted with vermilion 
and turmeric, and over its ears it had a net of 
crimson silk cord. It stopped opposite one of 
the booths and began eating the oranges, and the 
man only laughed. Thou canst not think how 
strange a people they are. When they are glad 
they go to the bird-sellers and buy them a caged 
bird, and set it free that their joy may be greater, 
and when they are sad they scourge themselves 
with thorns that their sorrow may not grow less. 

"One evening I met some negroes carrying a 
heavy palanquin through the bazaar. It was 
made of gilded bamboo, and the poles were of 
vermilion lacquer studded with brass peacocks. 
Across the windows hung thin curtains of muslin 

[1411 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



embroidered with beetles' wings and with tiny 
seed-pearls, and as it passed by a pale-faced 
Circassian looked out and smiled at me. I 
followed behind, and the negroes hurried their 
steps and scowled. But I did not care. I felt 
a great curiosity come over me. 

"At last they stopped at a square white house. 
There were no windows to it, only a little door 
like the door of a tomb. They set down the 
palanquin and knocked three times with a copper 
hammer. An Armenian in a caftan of green 
leather peered through the wicket, and when he 
saw them he opened, and spread a carpet on the 
ground, and the woman stepped out. As she 
went in, she turned round and smiled at me again. 
I had never seen anyone so pale. 

**When the moon rose I returned to ,the same 
place and sought for the house, but it was no 
longer there. When I saw that, I knew who the 
woman was, and wherefore she had smiled at me. 

'Certainly thou should'st have been with 
me. On the feast of the New Moon the young 
Emperor came forth from his palace and went 
into the mosque to pray. His hair and beard 
were dyed with rose-leaves, and his cheeks were 
powdered with a fine gold dust. The palms of 
his feet and hands were yellow with saffron. 

[142] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

"At sunrise he went forth from his palace 
in a robe of silver, and at sunset he returned 
to it again in a robe of gold. The people flung 
themselves on the ground and hid their faces, 
but I would not do so. I stood by the stall of 
a seller of dates and waited. When the Em- 
peror saw me, he raised his painted eyebrows 
and stopped. I stood quite still, and made 
him no obeisance. The people marvelled at 
my boldness, and counselled me to flee from 
the city. I paid no heed to them, but went and 
sat with the sellers of strange gods, who by 
reason of their craft are abominated. When 
I told them what I had done, each of them 
gave me a god and prayed me to leave them. 

"That night, as I lay on a cushion in the tea- 
house that is in the Street of Pomegranates, 
the guards of the Emperor entered and led me 
to the palace. As I went in they closed each 
door behind me, and put a chain across it. In- 
side was a great court with an arcade running 
all round. The walls were of white alabaster, 
set here and there with blue and green tiles. 
The pillars were of green marble, and the pave- 
ment of a kind of peach-blossom marble. I 
had never seen anything like it before. 

"As I passed across the court two veiled 

[143] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



women looked down from the balcony and 
cursed me. The guards hastened on, and the 
butts of the lances rang upon the polished floor. 
They opened a gate of wrought ivory, and I 
found myself in a watered garden of seven ter- 
races. It was planted with tulip-cups and moon- 
flowers, and silver-studded aloes. Like a slim 
reed of crystal a fountain hung in the dusky air. 
The cypress- trees were like burnt-out torches. 
From one of them a nightingale was singing. 

"At the end of the garden stood a little pavil- 
ion. As we approached it two eunuchs came 
out to meet us. Their fat bodies swayed as 
they walked, and they glanced curiously at me 
with their yellow-lidded eyes. One of them 
drew aside the captain of the guard, and in a 
low voice whispered to him. The other kept 
munching scented pastilles, which he took with 
an affected gesture out of an oval box of lilac 
enamel. 

"After a few moments the captain of the 
guard dismissed the soldiers. They went back 
to the palace, the eunuchs following slowly be- 
hind and plucking the sweet mulberries from 
the trees as they passed. Once the elder of the 
two turned round and smiled at me with an evil 
smile. 

[144] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

"Then the captain of the guard motioned 
me towards the entrance of the pavilion. I 
walked on without trembling, and drawing the 
heavy curtain aside I entered in. 

"The young Emperor was stretched on a 
couch of dyed lion skins, and a ger-falcon perched 
upon his wrist. Behind him stood a brass- tur- 
banned Nubian, naked down to the waist, and 
with heavy earrings in his split ears. On a 
table by the side of the couch lay a mighty 
scimitar of steel. 

"When the Emperor saw me he frowned, and 
said to me, *What is thy name? Knowest thou 
not that I am Emperor of this city?' But I 
made him no answer. 

"He pointed with his finger at the scimitar, 
and the Nubian seized it, and rushing forward 
struck at me with great violence. The blade 
whizzed through me, and did me no hurt. The 
man fell sprawling on the floor, and when he 
rose up, his teeth chattered with terror and he 
hid himself behind the couch. 

"The Emperor leapt to his feet, and taking 
a lance from a stand of arms he threw it at me 
I caught it in its flight, and brake the shaft into 
two pieces. He shot at me with an arrow, but 
I held up my hands and it stopped in mid-air. 
10 [ 145 ] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



Then he drew a dagger from a belt of white 
leather, and stabbed the Nubian in the throat 
lest the slave should tell of his dishonour. The 
man writhed like a trampled snake, and a red 
foam bubbled from his lips. 

"As soon as he was dead the Emperor turned 
to me, and when he had wiped away the bright 
sweat from his brow with a little napkin of 
purfled and purple silk, he said to me, 'Art thou 
a prophet, that I may not harm thee, or the son 
of a prophet that I can do thee no hurt? I 
pray thee leave my city to-night, for while thou 
art in it I am no longer its lord.' 

"And I answered him, 'I will go for half thy 
treasure. Give me half of thy treasure and I 
will go away.' 

"He took me by the hand, and le.d me out 
into the garden. When the captain of the 
guard saw me, he wondered. When the eunuchs 
saw me, their knees shook and they fell upon 
the ground in fear. 

"There is a chamber in the palace that has 
eight walls of red porphyry, and a brass-scaled 
ceiling hung with lamps. The Emperor touched 
one of the walls and it opened, and we passed 
down a corridor that was lit with many torches. 
In niches upon each side stood great wine- jars 

[146] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

fiUed to the brim with silver pieces. When we 
reached the centre of the corridor the Emperor 
spake the word that may not be spoken, and a 
granite door swung back on a secret spring, 
and he put his hands before his face lest his eyes 
should be dazzled. 

"Thou could'st not believe how marvellous 
a place it was. There were huge tortoise-shells 
of pearls, and hollowed moonstones of great size 
piled up with red rubies. The gold was stored 
in coffers of elephant-hide, and the gold-dust 
in leather bottles. There were opals and sap- 
phires, the former in cups of crystal, and the 
latter in cups of jade. Round green emeralds 
were ranged in order upon thin plates of ivory, 
and in one corner were silk bags filled, some 
with turquoise-stones, and others with beryls. 
The ivory horns were heaped with purple ame- 
thysts, and the horns of brass with chalcedonies 
and sards. The pillars, which were of cedar, 
were hung with strings of yellow lynx-stones. 
In the flat oval shields there were carbuncles, 
both wine-coloured and coloured like grass. 
And yet I have told thee but a tithe of what 
was there. 

"And when the Emperor had taken away 
his hands from before his face he said to me: 

[147] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



'This is my house of treasure, and half that is 
in it is thine, even as I promised to thee. And 
I will give thee camels and camel drivers, and 
they shall do thy bidding and take away thy 
share of the treasure to whatever part of the 
world thou desirest to go. And the thing shall 
be done to-night, for I would not that the Sun, 
who is my father, should see that there is in my 
city a man whom I cannot slay.' 

''But I answered him, 'The gold that is here 
is thine, and the silver is thine also, and thine 
are the precious jewels and the things of price. 
As for me, I have no need of these. Nor shall 
I take aught from thee but that little ring that 
thou wearest on the finger of thy hand.' 

"And the Emperor frowned. 'It is but a 
ring of lead,' he cried, 'nor has it any value. 
Therefore take thy half of the treasure and go 
from my city.' 

"^Nay,' I answered, 'but I will take nought 
but that leaden ring, for I know what is written 
within it, and for what purpose.' 

"And the Emperor trembled, and besought 
me and said, 'Take all the treasure and go from 
my city. The half that is mine shall be thine 
also.' 

"And I did a strange thing, but what I did 

[148] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

matters not, for in a cave that is but a day^s 
journey from this place have I hidden the Ring 
of Riches. It is but a day's journey from this 
place, and it waits for thy coming. He who 
has this Ring is richer than all the kings of the 
world. Come therefore and take it, and the 
world's riches shall be thine.'' 

But the young Fisherman laughed. "Love 
is better than Riches," he cried, "and the little 
Mermaid loves me." 

"Nay, but there is nothing better than Riches," 
said the Soul. 

"Love is better," answered the young Fisher- 
man, and he plunged into the deep, and the 
Soul went weeping away over the marshes. 

And after the third year was over, the Soul 
came down to the shore of the sea, and called 
to the young Fisherman, and he rose out of the 
deep and said, "Why dost thou call to me?" 

And the Soul answered, "Come nearer, that 
I may speak with thee, for I have seen marvellous 
things. " 

So he came nearer, and couched in the shallow 
water, and leaned his head upon his hand and 
listened. 

And the Soul said to him, "In a city that I 

[149] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



know of there is an inn that standeth by a river. 
I sat there with sailors who drank of two dif- 
ferent coloured wines, and ate bread made of 
barley, and little salt fish served in bay leaves 
with vinegar. And as we sat and made merry, 
there entered to us an old man bearing a leath- 
ern carpet and a lute that had two horns of 
amber. And when he had laid out the carpet 
on the floor, he struck with a quill on the wire 
strings of his lute, and a girl whose face was 
veiled ran in and began to dance before us. 
Her face was veiled with a veil of gauze, but 
her feet were naked. Naked were her feet, 
and they moved over the carpet like little white 
pigeons. Never have I seen anything so mar- 
vellous, and the city in which she dances is but 
a day's journey from this place.'' 

Now when the young Fisherman heard the 
words of his Soul, he remembered that the little 
Mermaid had no feet and could not dance. 
And a great desire came over him, and he said 
to himself, "It is but a day's journey, and I 
can return to my love," and he laughed, and 
stood up in the shallow water, and strode towards 
the shore. 

And when he had reached the dry shore he 
laughed again, and held out his arms to his 

[150] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

Soul. And his Soul gave a great cry of joy and 
ran to meet him, and entered into him, and the 
young Fisherman saw stretched before him upon 
the sand that shadow of the body that is the 
body of the Soul. 

And his Soul said to him, "Let us not tarry, 
but get hence at once, for the Sea-gods are jeal- 
ous, and have monsters that do their bidding. '^ 

So they made haste, and all that night they 
journeyed beneath the moon, and all the next 
day they journeyed beneath the sun, and on 
the evening of the day they came to a city. 

And the young Fisherman said to his Soul, 
"Is this the city in which she dances of whom 
thou did'st speak to me?" 

And his Soul answered him, "It is not this 
city, but another. Nevertheless let us enter in.'* 

So they entered in and passed through the 
streets, and as they passed through the Street 
of the Jewellers the Fisherman saw a fair silver 
cup, set forth in a booth. And his Soul said to 
him, "Take that silver cup and hide it.'' 

So he took the silver cup and hid it in the fold 
of his tunic, and they went hurriedly out of the 
city. 

And after that they had gone a league from 

[151] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



the city, the young Fisherman frowned, and 
flung the cup away, and said to the Soul, ^^Why 
did'st thou tell me to take this cup and hide it, 
for it was an evil thing to do?'' 

But his Soul answered him, "Be at peace, 
be at peace.'' 

And on the evening of the second day they 
came to a city, and the young Fisherman said 
to his Soul, "Is this the city in which she dances 
of whom thou did'st speak to me?" 

And his Soul answered him, "It is not this 
city, but another. Nevertheless let us enter in." 

So they entered in and passed through the 
street, and as they passed through the Street 
of the Sellers of Sandals, the young Fisherman 
saw a child standing by a jar of water. And 
his Soul said to him, "Smite that child." So 
he smote the child till it wept, and when he had 
done this they went hurriedly out of the city. 

And after that they had gone a league from 
the city the young Fisherman grew wroth, and 
said to his Soul, "Why did'st thou tell me to 
smite the child, for it was an evil thing to do?" 

But his soul answered him, "Be at peace, bfe 
at peace. " 

And on the evening of the third day they 
came to a city and the young Fisherman said to 

[152] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

his Soul, "Is this the city in which she dances 
of whom thou did'st speak to me?" 

And his Soul answered him, "It may be that 
it is this city, therefore let us enter in.'' 

So they entered in and passed through the 
streets, but nowhere could the young Fisher- 
man find the river or the inn that stood by its 
side. And the people of the city looked curi- 
ously at him, and he grew afraid and said to his 
Soul, "Let us go hence, for she who dances with 
white feet is not here. " 

But the Soul answered, "Nay, but let us 
tarry, for the night is dark and there will be 
robbers on the way." 

So he sat him down in the market-place and 
rested, and after a time there went by a hooded 
merchant who had a cloak of Tartary, and bare 
a lantern of pierced horn at the end of a jointed 
reed. And the merchant said to him, "Why 
dost thou sit in the market-place, seeing that 
the booths are closed and the bales corded?" 

And the young Fisherman answered him, 
"I can find no inn in this city, nor have I any 
kinsman who might give me shelter. " 

"Are we not all kinsmen?" said the merchant. 
"And did not one God make us? Therefore 
come with me, for I have a guest-chamber." 

[153] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



So the young Fisherman rose up and followed 
the merchant to his house. And when he had 
passed through a garden of pomegranates and 
entered into the house, the merchant brought 
him rose-water in a copper dish that he might 
wash his hands, and ripe melons that he might 
quench his thirst, and set a bowl of rice and a 
piece of roasted kid before him. 

And after that he had finished, the merchant 
led him to the guest-chamber, and bade him 
sleep and be at rest. And the young Fisher- 
man gave him thanks, and kissed the ring that 
was on his hand, and flung himself down on the 
carpets of dyed goat's-hair. And when he had 
covered himself with a covering of black lamb's- 
wool he fell asleep. 

And three hours before dawn, an^ while it 
was still night, his Soul waked him, and said to 
him, "Rise up and go to the room of the mer- 
chant, even to the room in which he sleepeth, 
and slay him, and take from him his gold, for 
we have need of it." 

And the young Fisherman rose up and crept 
towards the room of the merchant, and over the 
feet of the merchant there was lying a curved 
sword, and the tray by the side of the merchant 
held nine purses of gold. And he reached out 

[154] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

his hand and touched the sword, and when he 
touched it the merchant started and awoke, and 
leaping up seized himself the sword, and cried 
to the young Fisherman, "Dost thou return 
evil for good, and pay with the shedding of 
blood for the kindness that I have shown 
thee?" 

And his Soul said to the young Fisherman, 
'^Strike him," and he struck him so that he 
swooned, and he seized then the nine purses 
of gold, and fled hastily through the garden 
of pomegranates, and set his face to the star 
that is the star of morning. 

And when they had gone a league from the 
city, the young Fisherman beat his breast, and 
said to his Soul, "Why didst thou bid me slay 
the merchant and take his gold? Surely thou 
art evil." 

But his Soul answered him, "Be at peace, 
be at peace." 

"Nay," cried the young Fisherman, "I may 
not be at peace, for aU that thou hast made me 
to do I hate. Thee also I hate, and I bid thee 
tell me wherefore thou hast wrought with me 
in this wise." 

And his Soul answered him, "When thou 
did'st send me forth into the T/orld thou gavest 

[ 155 ] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



me no heart, so I learned to do all these things 
and love them.'' 

"What say est thou?" murmured the young 
Fisherman. 

*^Thou knowest," answered his Soul, "thou 
knowest it well. Hast thou forgotten that thou 
gavest me no heart? I trow not. And so trouble 
not thyself nor me, but be at peace, for there 
is no pain that thou shalt not give awav, nor 
any pleasure that thou shalt not receive." 

And when the young Fisherman heard these 
words he trembled and said to his Soul, "Nay, 
but thou art evil, and hast made me forget my 
love, and hast tempted me with temptations, 
and hast set my feet in the ways of sin." 

And his Soul answered him, "Thou hast not 
forgotten that when thou didst send me forth 
into the world thou gavest me no heart. Come, 
let us go to another city, and make merry, for 
we have nine purses of gold." 

But the young Fisherman took the nine purses 
of gold, and flung them down, and trampled on 
them. 

"Nay," he cried, "but I will have nought 
to do with thee, nor will I journey with thee 
anywhere, but even as I sent thee away before, 
so will I send thee away now, for thou hast 

[156] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

wrought me no good/' And he turned his 
back to the moon, and with the Httle knife that 
had the handle of green viper's skin he strove 
to cut from his feet that shadow of the body 
which is the body of the Soul. 

Yet his Soul stirred not from him, nor paid 
heed to his command, but said to him, "The 
speU that the Witch told thee avails thee no 
more, for I may not leave thee, nor mayest thou 
drive me forth. Once in his 'life may a man 
send his Soul away, but he who receiveth back 
his Soul must keep it with him for ever, and 
this is his punishment and his reward." 

And the young Fisherman grew pale and 
clenched his hands and cried, "She was a false 
Witch in that she told me not that." 

"Nay," answered his Soul, "but she was 
true to Him she worships, and whose servant 
she will be ever." 

And when the young Fisherman knew that 
he could no longer get rid of his Soul, and that 
it was an evil Soul and would abide with him 
always, he fell upon the ground weeping bitterly. 

And when it was day the young Fisherman 
rose up and said to his Soul, "I will bind my 
hands that I may not do thy bidding, and close 
my lips that I may not speak thy words, and I 

' ^57] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



will return to the place where she whom I love 
has her dwelling. Even to the sea will I return, 
and to the little bay where she is wont to sing, 
and I will call to her and tell her the evil I have 
done and the evil thou hast wrought on me." 

And his Soul tempted him and said, "Who 
is thy love that thou should'st return to her? 
The world has many fairer than she is. There 
are the dancing-girls of Samaris who dance in 
the manner of all kinds of birds and beasts. 
Their feet are painted with henna, and in their 
hands they have little copper bells. They 
laugh while they dance, and their laughter is 
as clear as the laughter of water. Come with 
me and I will show them to thee. For what 
is this trouble of thine about the things of sin? 
Is that which is pleasant to eat not made for 
the eater? Is there poison in that which is 
sweet to drink? Trouble not thyself, but come 
with me to another city. There is a little city 
hard by in which there is a garden of tulip-trees. 
And there dwell in this comely garden white 
peacocks and peacocks that have blue breasts. 
Their tails when they spread them to the sun 
are like disks of ivory and like gilt disks. And 
she who feeds them dances for their pleasure, 
and some times she dances on her hands and at 

[158] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

other times she dances with her feet. Her eyes 
are coloured with stibium, and her nostrils are 
shaped like the wings of a swallow. From a 
hook in one of her nostrils hangs a flower that is 
carved out of a pearl. She laughs while she 
dances, and the silver rings that are about her 
ankles tinkle like bells of silver. And so trouble 
not thyself any more, but come with me to this 
city." 

But the young Fisherman answered not his 
Soul, but closed his lips with the seal of silence 
and with a tight cord bound his hands, and 
journeyed back to the place from which he had 
come, even to the little bay where his love had 
been wont to sing. And ever did his Soul 
tempt him by the way, but he made it no an- 
swer, nor would he do any of the wickedness 
that it sought to make him to do, so great was 
the power of the love that was within him. 

And when he had reached the shore of the 
sea, he loosed the cord from his hands, and took 
the seal of silence from his lips and called to 
the little Mermaid. But she came not to his 
call, though he called to her all day long and 
besought her. 

And his Soul mocked him and said, "Surely 
thou hast but little joy out of thy love. Thou 

[159] 



THE HAPPY PEINCE 



art as one who in time of dearth pours water 
into a broken vessel. Thou givest away what 
thou hast, and nought is given to thee in return. 
It were better for thee to come with me for I 
know where the Valley of Pleasure lies, and 
what things are wrought there." 

But the young Fisherman answered not his 
Soul, but in a cleft of the rock he built himself 
a house of wattles, and abode there for the space 
of a year. And every morning he called to the 
Mermaid, and every noon he called to her again, 
and at night-time spake her name. Yet never 
did she rise out of the sea to meet him, nor in 
any place of the sea could he find her, though 
he sought for her in the caves and in the water 
green, in the pools of the tide and in the wells 
that are at the bottom of the deep. 

And ever did his Soul tempt him with evil, 
and whisper of terrible things. Yet did it not 
prevail against him, so great was the power of 
his love. 

And after the year was over, the Soul thought 
within himself, "I have tempted my master 
with evil, and his love is stronger than I am. 
I will tempt him now with good, and it may be 
that he will come with me." 

So he spake to the young Fisherman and 

[160] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

said, "I have told thee of the joy of the world, 
and thou hast turned a deaf ear to me. Suffer 
me now to tell thee of the world's pain, and it 
may be that thou wilt hearken. For of a truth, 
pain is the Lord of this world, nor is there any- 
one w^ho escapes from its net. There be some who 
lack raiment, and others who lack bread. There 
be widows who sit in purple, and widows who 
sit in rags. To and fro over the fens go the 
lepers, and they are cruel to each other. The 
beggars go up and down on the highways, and 
their wallets are empty. Through the streets 
of the cities walks Famine, and the Plague sits 
at their gates. Come, let us go forth and mend 
these things, and make them not to be. Where- 
fore should' st thou tarry here calling to thy 
love, seeing she comes not to thy call? And 
what is love, that thou should' st set this high 
store upon it?" 

But the young Fisherman answered it nought, 
so great was the power of his love. And every 
morning he called to the Mermaid, and every 
noon he called to her again, and at night-time 
he spake her name. Yet never did she rise out 
of the sea to meet him, nor in any place of the 
sea could he find her, though he sought for her 
in the rivers of the sea, and in the valleys that 
11 [ 161 ] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



are under the waves, in the sea that the night 
makes purple, and in the sea that the dawn 
leaves grey. 

And after the second year was over, the Soul 
said to the young Fisherman at night-time, 
and as he sat in the wattled house alone, "Lo! 
now I have tempted thee with evil, and I have 
tempted thee with good, and thy love is stronger 
than I am. Wherefore will I tempt thee no 
longer, but I pray thee to suffer me to enter 
thy heart, that I may be one with thee even as 
before." 

"Surely thou mayest enter," said the young 
Fisherman, "for in the days when with no heart 
thou didst go through the world thou must 
have much suffered." 

"Alas!" cried his Soul, "I can find no place 
of entrance, so compassed about with love is 
this heart of thine." 

"Yet I would that I could help thee," said 
the young Fisherman. 

And as he spake there came a great cry of 
mourning from the sea, even the cry that men 
hear when one of the Sea-folk is dead. And 
the young Fisherman leapt up, and left his wat- 
tled house, and ran down to the shore. And 
the black waves came hurrying to the shore, 

[ 162 ] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

bearing with them a burden that was whiter 
than silver. White as the surf it was, and like 
a flower it tossed on the waves. And the surf 
took it from the waves, and the foam took it 
from the surf, and the shore received it, and 
lying at his feet the young Fisherman saw the 
body of the little Mermaid. Dead at his feet 
it was lying. 

Weeping as one smitten with pain he flung 
himself down beside it, and he kissed the cold 
red of the mouth, and toyed with the wet amber 
of the hair. He flung himself down beside it 
on the sand, weeping as one trembling with joy, 
and in his brown arms he held it to his breast. 
Cold were the lips, yet he kissed them. Salt 
was the honey of the hair, yet he tasted it with 
a bitter joy. He kissed the closed eyelids, and 
the wild spray that lay upon their cups was 
less salt than his tears. 

And to the dead thing he made confession. 
Into the shells of its ears he poured the harsh 
wine of his tale. He put the little hands round 
his neck, and with his fingers he touched the 
thin reed of the throat. Bitter, bitter was his 
joy, and full of strange gladness was his pain. 

The black sea came nearer and the white 
foam moaned like a leper. With white claws 

[163] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



of foam the sea grabbled at the shore. From 
the palace of the Sea-King came the cry of 
mourning again, and far out upon the sea the 
great Tritons blew hoarsely upon their horns. 

"Flee away," said his Soul, "for ever doth 
the sea come nigher, and if thou tarriest it will 
slay thee. Flee away, for I am afraid seeing 
that thy heart is closed against me by reason 
of the greatness of thy love. Flee away to a 
place of safety. Surely thou wilt not send me 
without a heart into another world?'' 

.But the young Fisherman listened not to his 
Soul, but called on the little Mermaid and said, 
"Love is better than wisdom, and more precious 
than riches, and fairer than the feet of the 
daughters of men. The fires cannot destroy 
it, nor can the waters quench it. I called on 
thee at dawn, and thou didst not come to my 
call. The noon heard thy name, yet hadst 
thou no heed of me. For evilly had I left thee, 
and to my own hurt had I wandered away. 
Yet ever did thy love abide with me, and ever 
was it strong, nor did aught prevail against it, 
though I have looked upon evil and looked upon 
good. And now that thou art dead, surely I 
will die with thee also." 

And his Soul besought him to depart, but 

[164] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

he would not, so great was his love. And the 
sea came nearer, and sought to cover him with 
its waves, and when he knew that the end was 
at hand he kissed with mad lips the cold lips of 
the Mermaid, and the heart that was within 
him brake. And as through the fulness of his 
love his heart did break, the Soul found an en- 
trance and entered in, and was one with him 
even as before. And the sea covered the young 
Fisherman with its waves. 

And in the morning the Priest went forth to 
bless the sea, for it had been troubled. And 
with him went the monks and the musicians, 
and the candle-bearers, and the swingers of 
censers, and a great company. 

And when the Priest reached the shore he 
saw the young Fisherman lying drowned in the 
surf, and clasped in his arms was the body of 
the little Mermaid. And he drew back frown- 
ing, and having made the sign of the cross, he 
cried aloud and said, "I will not bless the sea 
nor anything that is in it. Accursed be the 
Sea-folk, and accursed be all they who traffic 
with them. And as for him who for lovers sake 
forsook God and so lieth here with his leman 
biain by God's judgment, take up his body and 

[165] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



the body of his leman, and bury them in the 
corner of the Field of the Fullers, and set no mark 
above them, nor sign of any kind, that none 
may know the place of their resting. For ac- 
cursed were they in their lives, and accursed 
shall they be in their deaths also." 

And the people did as he commanded them, 
and in the corner of the Field of the Fullers, 
where no sweet herbs grew, they dug a deep 
pit, and laid the dead things within it. 

And when the third year was over, and on 
a day that was a holy day, the Priest went up 
to the chapel, that he might show to the people 
the wounds of the Lord, and speak to them 
about the wrath of God. 

And when he had robed himself with his 
robes, and entered in and bowed himself before 
the altar, he saw that the altar was covered 
with strange flowers that never had he seen be- 
fore. Strange were they to look at, and of 
curious beauty, and their beauty troubled him, 
and their odour was sweet in his nostrils. And 
he felt glad, and understood not why he was 
glad. 

And after that he had opened the tabernacle 
and incensed the monstrance that was in it, 
and shown the fair wafer to the people, and hid 

[ 166 ] 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

it again behind the veil of veils, he began to 
speak to them of the wrath of God. But the 
beauty of the white flowers troubled him, and 
their odour was sweet in his nostrils, and there 
came another word into his lips, and he spake 
not of the wrath of God, but of the God whose 
name is Love. And why so he spake, he knew 
not. 

And when he had finished his word the people 
wept, and the Priest went back to the sacristy, 
and his eyes were full of tears. And the deacons 
came in and began to unrobe him, and took 
from him the alb and the girdle, the maniple 
and the stole. And he stood as one in a dream. 

And after that they had unrobed him, he 
looked at them and said, '^What are the flowers 
that stand on the altar, and whence do they 
come?" 

And they answered him, ''What flowers they 
are we cannot tell, but they come from the 
corner of the Fullers' Field." And the Priest 
trembled, and returned to his own house and 
prayed. 

And in the morning, while it was still dawn, 
he went forth with the monks and the musi- 
cians, and the candle-bearers and the swingers 
of censers, and a great company, and came to 

[167] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



the shore of the sea, and blessed the sea, and all 
the wild things that are in it. The Fauns also 
he blessed, and the little things that dance in 
the woodland, and the bright-eyed things that 
peer through the leaves. All the things in 
God^s world he blessed, and the people were 
filled with joy and wonder. Yet never again 
in the corner of the Fullers' Field grew flowers 
of any kind, but the field remained barren even 
as before. Nor came the Sea-folk into the bay 
as they had been wont to do, for they went to 
another part of the sea. 



[168] 






COPYRIGHT, 19U. BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 



BLESSED THE SEA AND ALL THE WILD THINGS THAT ARE 

IN it'' — Page i68 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE 
INFANTA 

IT WAS the birthday of the Infanta. She was 
just twelve years of age, and the sun was 
shining brightly in the gardens of the 
palace. 

Although she was a real Princess and the In- 
fanta of Spain, she had only one birthday every 
year, just like the children of quite poor people, 
so it was naturally a matter of great importance 
to the whole country that she should have a 
really fine day for the occasion. And a really 
fine day it certainly was. The tall striped 
tulips stood straight up upon their stalks, like 
long rows of soldiers, and looked defiantly across 
the grass at the roses, and said: "We are quite 
as splendid as you are now." The purple but- 
terflies fluttered about with gold dust on their 
wings, visiting each flower in turn; the little 
lizards crept out of the crevices of the wall, and 
lay basking in the white glare; and the pome- 
granates split and cracked with the heat, and 
showed their bleeding red hearts. Even the 

[ 171 ] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



pale yellow lemons, that hung in such profusion 
from the mouldering trellis and along the dim 
arcades, seemed to have caught a richer colour 
from the wonderful sunlight, and the magnolia 
trees opened their great globe-like blossoms of 
folded ivory, and filled the air with a sweet 
heavy perfume. 

The little Princess herself walked up and down 
the terrace with her companions, and played at 
hide and seek round the stone vases and the old 
mossgrown statues. On ordinary days she was 
only allowed to play with childern of her own 
rank, so she had always to play alone, but her 
birthday was an exception, and the King had 
given orders that she was to invite any of her 
young friends whom she liked to come and 
amuse themselves with her. There was a stately 
grace about these slim Spanish children as they 
glided about, the boys with their large plumed 
hats and short fluttering cloaks, the girls holding 
up the trains of their long brocaded gowns, and 
shielding the sun from their eyes with huge fans 
of black and silver. But the Infanta was the 
most graceful of all, and the most tastefully 
attired, after the somewhat cumbrous fashion 
of the day. Her robe was of grey satin, the skirt 
and the wide puffed sleeves heavily embroidered 

[172] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

with silver, and the stiff corset studded with 
rows of fine pearls. Two tiny slippers with big 
pink rosettes peeped out beneath her dress as she 
walked. Pink and pearl was her great gauze fan, 
and in her hair, which like an aureole of faded 
gold stood out stiffly round her pale little face, 
she had a beautiful white rose. 

From a window in the Palace the sad 
melancholy King watched them. Behind him 
stood his brother, Don Pedro of Aragon, whom he 
hated, and his confessor, the Grand Inquisitor of 
Granada, sat by his side. Sadder even than usual 
was the King, for as he looked at the Infanta 
bowing with childish gravity to the assembling 
courtiers, or laughing behind her fan at the 
grim Duchess of Albuquerque who always ac- 
companied her, he thought of the young Queen, 
her mother, who but a short time before — so it 
seemed to him — had come from the gay country 
of France, and had withered away in the sombre 
splendour of the Spanish court, dying just six 
months after the birth of her child, and before she 
had seen the almonds blossom twice in the orchard 
or plucked the second year's fruit from the old 
gnarled fig-tree that stood in the centre of the 
now grass-grown courtyard. So great had been 
his love for her that he had not suffered even the 

[173] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



grave to hide her from him. She had been em- 
balmed by a Moorish physician, who in return 
for this service had been granted his life, which 
for heresy and suspicion of magical practices had 
been aheady forfeited, men said, to the Holy 
Office, and her body was still lying on its tapes- 
tried bier in the black marble chapel of the Palace, 
just as the monks had borne her in on that windy 
March day nearly twelve years before. Once 
every month the King, wrapped in a dark cloak 
and with a muffled lantern in his hand, went in 
and knelt by her side, calling out, ^^Mi reina! Mi 
reinar and sometimes breaking through the 
formal etiquette that in Spain governs every 
separate action of Hfe, and sets limits eveil to the 
sorrow of a King, he would clutch at the pale 
jewelled hands in a wild agony of grief, and try 
to wake by his mad kisses the cold painted face. 
To-day he seemed to see her again, as he had 
seen her first at the Castle of Fontainebleau, 
when he was but fifteen years of age, and she 
still younger. They had been formally betrothed 
on that occasion by the Papal Nuncio in the 
presence of the French King and all the Court, 
and he had retiurned to the Escurial bearing with 
him a little ringlet of yellow hair, and the memory 
of two childish lips bending down to kiss his hand 

[174] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

as he stepped into his carriage. Later on had 
followed the marriage, hastily performed at 
Burgos, a small town on the frontier between the 
two countries, and the grand public entry into 
Madrid with the customary celebration of high 
mass at the Church of La Atoacha, and a more 
than usually solemn auto de fe, in which nearly 
three hundred heretics, amongst whom were many 
EngHshmen, had been delivered over to the secu- 
lar arm to be burned. 

Certainly he had loved her madly, and to the 
ruin, many thought, of his country, then at war 
with England for the possession of the empire of 
the New World. He had hardly ever permitted 
her to be out of his sight; for her, he had forgot- 
ten, or seemed to have forgotten, all grave affairs 
of state; and, with that terrible blindness that 
passion brings upon its servants, he had failed to 
notice that the elaborate ceremonies by which he 
sought to please her did but aggravate the strange 
malady from which she suffered. When she 
died he was, for a time, like one bereft of reason. 
Indeed, there is no doubt but that he would have 
formally abdicated and retired to the great 
Trappist monastery at Granada, of which he was 
already titular Prior; had he not been afraid to 
leave the little Infanta at the mercy of his brother, 

[175] 



THE HAPPY PPINCE 



whose cruelty, even in Spain, was notorious, and 
who was suspected by many of having caused the 
Queen's death by means of a pair of poisoned 
gloves that he had presented to her on the oc- 
casion of her visiting his castle in Aragon. Even 
after the expiration of the three years of public 
mourning that he had ordained throughout his 
whole dominion by royal edict, he would never 
suffer his ministers to speak about any new 
alliance, and when the Emperor himself sent to 
him, and offered him the hand of the lovely 
Archduchess of Bohemia, his niece, in marriage, 
he bade the ambassador tell their master that the 
King of Spain was already wedded to Sorrow, and 
that though she was but a barren bride he loved 
her better than Beauty; an answer that cost his 
crown the rich provinces of the Netherlands, 
which soon after, at the Emperor's instigation, 
revolted against him under the leadership of 
some fanatics of the Reformed Chiu-ch. 

His whole married life, with its fierce fiery- 
coloured joys and the terrible agony of its sudden 
ending, seemed to come back to him to-day as he 
watched the Infanta playing on the terrace. 
She had all the Queen's pretty petulance of man- 
ner, the same wilful way of tossing her head, the 
same proud curved beautiful mouth, the same 

[176] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

wonderful smile — vrai sourire de France indeed — 
as she glanced up now and then at the window, or 
stretched out her little hand for the stately 
Spanish gentlemen to kiss. But the shrill laugh- 
ter of the children grated on his ears, and the 
bright pitiless sunlight mocked his sorrow, and a 
dull odour of strange spices, spices such as embalm- 
ers use, seemed to taint — or was it fancy? — the 
clear morning air. He buried his face in his 
hands, and when the Infanta looked up again 
the curtains had been drawn, and the King had 
retired. 

She made a little moue of disappointment, and 
shrugged her shoulders. Surely he might have 
stayed with her on her birthday. What did the 
stupid State-affairs matter? Or had he gone to 
that gloomy chapel, where the candles were 
always burning, and where she was never allowed 
to enter? How silly of him, when the sun was 
shining so brightly, and everybody was so happy ! 
Besides, he would miss the sham bull-fight for 
which the trumpet was already sounding, to say 
nothing of the puppet show and the other wonder- 
ful things. Her uncle and the Grand Inquisitor 
were much more sensible. They had come out 
on the terrace, and paid her nice compliments. 
So she tossed her pretty head, and taking Don 
12 [ 177 ] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



Pedro by the hand, she walked slowly down the 
steps towards a long pavilion of purple silk that 
had been erected at the end of the garden, the 
other children following in strict order of pre- 
cedence, those who had the longest names going 
first. 

A procession of noble boys, fantastically 
dressed as toreadors, came out to meet her, and 
the young Count of Tierra-Nueva, a wonderfully 
handsome lad of about fourteen years of age, 
uncovering his head with all the grace of a born 
hidalgo and grandee of Spain led her solemnly in 
to a gilt and ivory chair that was placed on a 
raised dais above the arena. The children 
grouped themselves all round, fluttering their 
big fans and whispering to each other, and Don 
Pedro and the Grand Inquisitor stood laughing 
at the entrance. Even the Duchess — the Came- 
r era-May or as she was called — a thin, hard- 
featured woman with a yellow ruff, did not look 
quite so bad-tempered as usual, and something 
like a chill smile flitted across her wrinkled face 
and twitched her thin bloodless lips. 

It certainly was a marvellous buU-fight, and 
much nicer, the Infanta thought, than the real 
buU-fight that she had been brought to see at 
Seville, on the occasion of the visit of the Duke 

[178] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

of Parma to her father. Some of the boys 
pranced about on richly-caparisoned hobby- 
horses brandishing long javelins with gay stream- 
ers of bright ribands, attached to them; others 
went on foot waving their scarlet cloaks before 
the bull, and vaulting lightly over the barrier 
when he charged them; and as for the bull himself 
he was just like a live bull, though he was only 
made of wicker-work and stretched hide, and 
sometimes insisted on running around the arena 
on his hind legs, which no live bull ever dreams 
of doing. He made a splendid fight of it too, 
and the children got so excited that they stood 
up upon the benches, and waved their lace hand- 
kerchiefs and cried out: ^^ Bravo torol Bravo tor or ^ 
just as sensibly as if they had been grown-up 
people. At last, however, after a prolonged com- 
bat, during which several of the hobby-horses 
were gored through and through, and their riders 
dismounted, the young Count of Tierra-Nueva 
brought the bull to his knees, and having obtained 
permission from the Infanta to give the coup de 
grace, he plunged his wooden sword into the neck 
of the animal with such violence that the head 
came right off, and disclosed the laughing face 
of Httle Monsieur de Lorraine, the son of the 
French Ambassador at Madrid. 

[179] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



The arena was then cleared amidst much 
applause, and the dead hobby-horses dragged 
solemnly away by two Moorish pages in yellow 
and black liveries, and after a short interlude, 
during which a French posture-master performed 
upon the tight-rope, some Italian puppets ap- 
peared in the semi-classical tragedy of Sophonisba 
on the stage of a smaU theatre that had been 
built up for the purpose. They acted so well, 
and their gestures were so extremely natural, 
that at the close of the play the eyes of the Infanta 
were quite dim with tears. Indeed some of the 
children really cried, and had to be comforted 
with sweetmeats, and the Grand Inquisitor him- 
self was so affected that he could not help saying 
to Don Pedro that it seemed to him intolerable 
that things made simply out of wood and coloured 
wax, and worked mechanically by wires, should 
be so unhappy and meet such terrible misfortunes. 

An African juggler followed, who brought in a 
large flat basket covered with a red cloth, and 
having placed it in the centre of the arena, he 
took from his turban a curious reed pipe, and 
blew through it. In a few moments the cloth 
began to move, and as the pipe grew shriller and 
shriller two green and gold snakes put out their 
strange wedge-shaped heads and rose slowly up, 

[180] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

swaying to and fro with the music as a plant 
sways in the water. The children, however, were 
rather frightened at their spotted hoods and quick 
darting tongues, and were much more pleased 
when the juggler made a tiny orange-tree grow 
out of the sand and bear pretty white blossoms 
and clusters of real fruit; and when he took the 
fan of the little daughter of the Marquess de 
Las-Torres, and changed it into a blue bird that 
flew all round the pavilion and sang, their delight 
and amazement knew no bounds. The solemn 
minuet, too, performed by the dancing boys from 
the church of Nuestra Seiiora Del Pilar, was 
charming. The Infanta had never before seen 
this wonderful ceremony which takes place every 
year at May-time in front of the high altar of 
the Virgin, and in her honour; and indeed none 
of the royal family of Spain had entered the great 
cathedral of Saragossa since a mad priest sup- 
posed by many to have been in the pay of Eliza- 
beth of England, had tried to administer a poi- 
soned wafer to the Prince of the Asturias. So she 
had known only by hearsay of "Our Lady's 
Dance," as it was called, and it certainly was a 
beautiful sight. The boys wore old-fashioned 
court dresses of white velvet, and their curious 
three-cornered hats were fringed with silver and 

tl81] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



surmounted with huge plumes of ostrich feathers, 
the dazzling whiteness of their costumes, as they 
moved about in the sunlight, being still more 
accentuated by their swarthy faces and long 
black hair. Everybody was fascinated by the 
grave dignity with which they moved through 
the intricate figures of the dance, and by the 
elaborate grace of their slow gestures, and stately 
bows, and when they had finished their perform- 
ance and doffed their plumed great hats to the 
Infanta, she acknowledged their reverence with 
much courtesy, and made a vow that she would 
send a large wax candle to the shrine of Our 
Lady of Pilar in return for the pleasure that she 
had given her. 

A troop of handsome Egyptians — as the gipsies 
were termed in those days — then advanced into 
the arena, and sitting down cross-legs, in a circle, 
began to play softly upon their zithers, moving 
their bodies to the tune, and humming almost 
below their breath, a low dreamy air. When they 
caught sight of Don Pedro they scowled at him, 
and some of them looked terrified, for only a few 
weeks before he had had two of their tribe hanged 
for sorcery in the market-place at Seville, but 
the pretty Infanta charmed them as she leaned 
back peeping over her fan with her great blue 

[182] 



TEE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

eyes, and they felt sure that one so lovely as she 
was could never be cruel to anybody. So they 
played on very gently and just touching the cords 
of the zithers with their long pointed nails, and 
their heads began to nod as though they were 
falling asleep. Suddenly with a cry so shrill 
that all the children were startled and Don 
Pedro's hand clutched at the agate pommel of 
his dagger, they leapt to their feet and whirled 
madly round the enclosure beating their tambour- 
ines, and chanting some wild love-song in their 
strange guttural language. Then at another sig- 
nal they all flung themselves again to the ground 
and lay there quite still, the dull strumming of 
the zithers being the only sound that broke the 
silence. After they had done this several times, 
they disappeared for a moment and came back 
leading a shaggy bear by a chain, and carrying 
on their shoulders some little Barbary apes. 
The bear stood on his head with the utmost 
gravity, and the wizened apes played all kinds of 
amusing tricks with two gipsy boys who seemed 
to be their masters, and fought with tiny swords, 
and fired off guns, and went through a regular 
soldier's drill like the King's own body-guard. 
In fact the gipsies were a great success. 

But the funniest part of the whole morning's 

[ 183 ]. 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



entertainment, was undoubtedly the dancing of 
the little Dwarf. When he stumbled into the 
arena, waddling on his crooked legs and wagging 
his huge misshapen head from side to side, the 
children went off into a loud shout of delight, and 
the Infanta herself laughed so much that the 
Camerera was obliged to remind her that al- 
though there were many precedents in Spain for 
a King's daughter weeping before her equals, 
there were none for a Princess of the blood royal 
making so merry before those who were her 
inferiors in birth. The Dwarf, however, was 
really quite irresistible, and even at the Spanish 
Court, always noted for its cultivated passion for 
the horrible, so fantastic a little monster had 
never been seen. It was his first appearance, too. 
He had been discovered only the day before, 
running wild through the forest, by two of the 
nobles who happened to have been hunting in a re- 
mote part of the great cork- wood that surrounded 
the town, and had been carried off by them to the 
Palace, as a surprise for the Infanta, his father, 
who was a poor charcoal-burner, being but too well 
pleased to get rid of so ugly and useless a child. 
Perhaps the most amusing thing about him was 
his complete unconsciousness of his own grotesque 
appearance. Indeed he seemed quite happy and 

[184] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

full of the highest spirits. When the children 
laughed, he laughed as freely and as joyously as 
any of them, and at the close of each dance he 
made them each the funniest of bows, smiling 
and nodding at them, just as if he was really one 
of them, and not a little misshapen thing that 
Nature, in some humorous mood, had fashioned 
for others to mock at. As for the Infanta, she 
absolutely fascinated him. He could not keep 
his eyes off her, and seemed to dance for her 
alone, and when at the close of the performance, 
remembering how she had seen the great ladies 
of the Court throw bouquets to Caffarelli the 
famous Italian treble, whom the Pope had sent 
from his own chapel to Madrid that he might 
cure the King's melancholy by the sweetness of 
his voice, she took out of her hair the beautiful 
white rose, and partly for the jest and partly to 
tease the Camerera, threw it to him across the 
arena with her sweetest smile, he took the whole 
matter quite seriously, and pressing the flower to 
his rough coarse lips he put his hand upon his 
heart, and sank on one knee before her, grinning 
from ear to ear, and with his little bright eyes 
sparkling with pleasure. 

This so upset the gravity of the Infanta that 
she kept on laughing long after the little Dwarf 

[185] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



had run out of the arena, and expressed a desire 
to her uncle that the dance should be immediately 
repeated. The Camerera, however, on the plea 
that the sun was too hot, decided that it would be 
better that her highness should return without 
delay to the Palace, where a wonderful feast had 
been already prepared for her, including a real 
birthday cake with her own initials worked all 
over it in painted sugar and a lovely silver flag 
waving from the top. The Infanta accordingly 
rose up with much dignity, and having given 
orders that the little dwarf was to dance again 
for her after the hour of siesta, and conveyed her 
thanks to the young Count of Tierra-Nueva for 
his charming reception, she went back to her 
apartments, the children following in the same 
order in which they had entered. 

Now when the little Dwarf heard that he was 
to dance a second time before the Infanta, and by 
her own express command, he was so proud that 
he ran out into the garden, kissing the white 
rose in an absurd ecstasy of pleasure, and making 
the most uncouth and clumsy gestures of delight. 

The flowers were quite indignant at his daring 
to intrude into their beautiful home, and when 
they saw him capering up and down the walks, 
and waving his arms above his head in such a 

[186] 






THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

ridiculous manner, they could not restrain their 
feelings any longer. 

'^He is really far too ugly to be allowed to play 
in any place where we are," cried the Tulips. 

"He should drink poppy-juice, and go to sleep 
for a thousand years," said the great scarlet 
Lillies, and they grew quite hot and angry. 

He is a perfect horror!" screamed the Cactus. 
Why, he is twisted and stumpy, and his head is 
completely out of proportion with his legs. 
Really he makes me feel prickly all over, and if 
he comes near me I will sting him with my 
thorns." 

"And he has actually got one of my best 
blooms," exclaimed the White Rose-tree. "I 
gave it to the Infanta this morning myself, as a 
birthday present, and he has stolen it from her." 
And she called out: "Thief, thief, thief!" at the 
top of her voice. 

Even the red Geraniums, who did not usually 
give themselves airs, and were known to have a 
great many poor relations, themselves, curled 
up in disgust when they saw him, and when the 
Violets meekly remarked that though he was cer- 
tainly extremely plain, still he could not help it, 
they retorted with a good deal of justice that that 
was his chief defect, and that there was no reason 

[187] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



why one should admire a person because he was 
incurable; and, indeed, some of the Violets them- 
selves felt that the ugliness of the little Dwarf 
was almost ostentatious, and that he would have 
shown much better taste if he had looked sad, 
or at least pensive, instead of jumping about 
merrily, and throwing himself into such grotesque 
and silly attitudes. 

As for the old Sundial, who was an extremely 
remarkable individual, and had once told the 
time of day to no less a person than the Emperor 
Charles V himself, he was so taken aback by the 
little Dwarf's appearance, that he almost forgot 
to mark two whole minutes with his long shadowy 
finger, and could not help saying to the great 
milk-white Peacock, who was sunning herself on 
the balustrade, that everyone knew -that the 
children of Kings were Kings, and that the child- 
ren of charcoal-burners were charcoal-burners, and 
that it was absurd to pretend that it wasn't so; 
a statement with which the Peacock entirely 
agreed, and indeed screamed out, "Certainly, 
certainly," in such a loud, harsh voice, that the 
gold-fish who lived in the basin of the cool splash- 
ing fountain put their heads out of the water, and 
asked the huge stone Tritons what on earth was 
the matter. 

[188] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

But somehow the Birds liked him. They had 
seen him often in the forest, dancing about Hke 
an elf after the eddying leaves, or crouched up in 
the hollow of some old oak-tree, sharing his nuts 
with the squirrels. They did not mind his being 
ugly, a bit. Why, even the nightingale herself, 
who sang so sweetly in the orange groves at night 
that sometimes the Moon leaned down to listen, 
was not much to look at after all; and, besides, he 
had been kind to them, and during that terrible 
winter when there were no berries on the trees, 
and the ground was hard as iron, and the wolves 
had come down to the very gates of the city to 
look for food, he had never once forgotten them, 
but had always given them crumbs out of his 
little hunch of black bread, and divided with them 
whatever poor breakfast he had. 

So they flew round and round him, just touch- 
ing his cheek with their wings as they passed, and 
chattered to each other, and the little Dwarf was 
so pleased that he could not help showing them 
the beautiful white rose, and telling them that 
the Infanta herself had given it to him because 
she loved him. 

They did not understand a single word of what 
he was saying, but that made no matter, for they 
put their heads on one side, and looked wise, 

[189] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



which is quite as good as understanding a thing, 
and very much easier. 

The Lizards also took an immense fancy to him, 
and when he grew tired of running about and 
flung himself down on the grass to rest, they 
played and romped all over him, and tried to 
amuse him in the best way they could. "Every 
one cannot be as beautiful as a lizard," they 
cried; "that would be too much to expect. And, 
though it sounds absurd to say so, he is really not 
so ugly after all, provided, of course, that one 
shuts one's eyes, and does not look at him." The 
Lizards were extremely philosophical by nature, 
and often sat thinking for hours and hours 
together, when there was nothing else to do, or 
when the weather was too rainy for them to go 
out. 

The Flowers, however, were excessively an- 
noyed at their behaviour, and at the behaviour of 
the birds. "It only shows," they said, "what 
a vulgarising effect this incessant rushing and 
fl3dng about has. WeU-bred people always stay 
exactly in the same place, as we do. No one ever 
saw us hopping up and down the walks, or gal- 
loping madly through the grass after dragon-flies. 
When we do want change of air, we send for 
the gardener, and he carries us to another bed. 

[190] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

This is dignified, and as it should be. But birds 
and lizards have no sense of repose, and indeed 
birds have not even a permanent address. They 
are mere vagrants like the gipsies, and should be 
treated in exactly the same manner.'' So they 
put their noses in the air, and looked haughty, 
and were quite delighted when after some time 
they saw the little Dwarf scramble up from the 
grass, and make his way across the terrace to the 
palace. 

"He should certainly be kept indoors for the 
rest of his natural life," they said. "Look at his 
hunched back, and his crooked legs," and they 
began to titter. 

But the little Dwarf knew nothing of all this. 
He liked the birds and the lizards immensely, and 
thought that the flowers were the most marvellous 
things in the whole world, except of course the 
Infanta, but then she had given him the beautiful 
white rose, and she loved him, and that made a 
great difference. How he wished that he had 
gone back with her! She would have put him 
on her right hand, and smiled at him, and he 
would have never left her side, but would have 
made her his playmate, and taught her all kinds 
of deHghtful tricks. For though he had never 
been in a palace before, he knew a great many 

[191] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



wonderful things. He could make little cages 
out of rushes for the grasshoppers to sing in, and 
fashion the long-jointed bamboo into the pipe 
that Pan loves to hear. He knew the cry of 
every bird, and could call the starlings from the 
tree-top, or the heron from the mere. He knew 
the trail of every animal, and could track the 
hare by its delicate footprints, and the boar by 
the trampled leaves. All the wind-dances he 
knew, the mad dance in red raiment with the 
autumn, the light dance in blue sandals over the 
corn, the dance with white snow-wreaths in 
winter, and the blossom-dance through the 
orchards in spring. He knew where the wood- 
pigeons built their nests, and once when a fowler 
had snared the parent birds, he had brought up 
the young ones himself, and had built a little 
dovecot for them in the cleft of a pollard elm. 
They were quite tame, and used to feed out of 
his hands every morning. She would like them, 
and the rabbits that scurried about in the long 
fern, and the jays with their steely feathers and 
black bills, and the hedgehogs that could curl 
themselves up into prickly balls, and the great 
wise tortoises that crawled slowly about, shaking 
their heads and nibbling at the young leaves. 
Yes, she must certainly come to the forest and 

[192] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

play with him. He would give her his own little 
bed, and would give watch outside the window 
till dawn, to see that the wild horned cattle did 
not harm her, nor the gaunt wolves creep too near 
the hut. And at dawn he would tap at the 
shutters and wake her, and they would go out 
and dance together all the day long. It was 
really not a bit lonely in the forest. Sometimes a 
Bishop rode through on his white mule, reading 
out of a painted book. Sometimes in their green 
velvet caps, and their jerkins of tanned deerskin, 
the falconers passed by, with hooded hawks on 
their wrists. At vintage time came the grape- 
treaders, with purple hands and feet, wreathed 
with glossy ivy and carrying dripping skins of 
wine; and the charcoal-burners sat round their 
huge braziers at night, watching the dry logs 
charring slowly in the fire, and roasting chestnuts 
in the ashes, and the robbers came out of their 
caves and made merry with them. Once, too, 
he had seen a beautiful procession winding up 
the long dusty road to Toledo. The monks went 
in front singing sweetly, and carrying bright 
banners and crosses of gold, and then, in silver 
armour, with matchlocks and spikes, came the 
soldiers, and in their midst walked three bare- 
footed men, in strange yellow dresses painted all 
13 [ 193 ] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



over with wonderful figures, and carrying lighted 
candles in their hands. Certainly there was a 
great deal to look at in the forest, and when she 
was tired he would find a soft bank of moss for 
her, or carry her in his arms, for he was very 
strong, though he knew that he was not tall. 
He would make her a necklace of red bryony 
berries, that would be quite as pretty as the white 
berries that she wore on her dress, and when she 
was tired of them, she could throw them away, 
and he would find her others. He would bring 
her acorn-cups and dew-drenched anemones, and 
tiny glow-worms to be stars in the pale gold of 
her hair. 

But where was she? He asked the white rose, 
and it made him no answer. The whole palace 
seemed asleep, and even where the shutters had 
not been closed, heavy curtains had been drawn 
across the windows to keep out the glare. He 
wandered all round looking for some place through 
which he might gain an entrance, and at last 
he caught sight of a little private door that 
was lying open. He slipped through, and found 
himself in a splendid hall, far more splendid he 
feared, than the forest, there was so much more 
gilding everywhere, and even the floor was made 
of great coloured stones, fitted together into a 

[194] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

sort of geometrical pattern. But the little 
Infanta was not there, only some wonderful white 
statues that looked down on him from their jasper 
pedestals, with sad blank eyes and strangely 
smiling lips. 

At the end of the hall a richly embroidered 
curtain of black velvet powdered with suns and 
stars, the King's favourite devices, and broidered 
on the colour he loved best. Perhaps she was 
hiding behind that? He would try at any rate. 

So he stole quietly across, and drew it aside. 
No; there was only another room, though a 
prettier room, he thought, than the one he had 
just left. The walls were hung with a many- 
figured green arras of needle-wrought tapestry 
representing a hunt, the work of some Flemish 
artists who had spent more than seven years in 
its composition. It had once been the chamber 
of Jean le Fou, as he was called, that mad King 
who was so enamoured of the chase, that he often 
tried in his delirium to mount the huge rearing 
horses, and to drag down the stag on which the 
great hounds were leaping, sounding his hunting 
horn, and stabbing with his dagger at the pale 
flying deer. It was now used as the council- 
room, and on the centre- table were lying red 
port-folios of the minister stamped with the gold 

[ 195] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



tulips of Spain, and with the arms and emblems 
of the house of Hapsburg. 

The little Dwarf looked in wonder all round 
him, and was half afraid to go on. The strange 
silent horsemen that galloped so swiftly through 
the long glades without making any noise, seemed 
to him like those terrible phantoms of whom he 
had heard charcoal-burners speaking — the Com- 
prachos, who hunt only at night, and if they meet 
a man, turn him into a hind, and chase him. But 
he thought of the pretty Infanta, and took 
courage. He wanted to find her alone, and to 
tell her that he too loved her. Perhaps she was 
in the room beyond. 

He ran across the soft Moorish carpets, and 
opened the door. No! She was not here either. 
The room was quite empty. 

It was the throne-room, used for the reception 
of foreign ambassadors, when the King, which of 
late had not been often, consented to give them 
a personal audience; the same room in which, 
many years before, envoys had appeared from 
England to make arrangements for the marriage 
of their Queen, then one of the Catholic sovereigns 
of Europe, with the Emperor's eldest son. The 
hangings were of gilt Cordovan leather, and a 
heavy gilt chandelier with branches for three 

[196] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

hundred wax lights hung down from the black 
and white ceiling. Underneath a great canopy 
of gold cloth, on which the lions and towers of 
Castile were broidered in seed pearls, stood the 
throne itself, covered with a rich pall of black 
velvet studded with silver tulips and elaborately 
fringed with silver and pearls. On the second 
step of the throne was placed the kneeling-stool 
of the Infanta, with its cushion of cloth of silver 
tissue, and below that again, and beyond the 
limit of the canopy, stood the chair for the Papal 
Nuncio, who alone had the right to be seated in 
the King's presence on the occasion of any public 
ceremonial, and whose Cardinal hat, with its 
tangled scarlet tassels, lay on a purple tabouret in 
front. On the wall, facing the throne, hung a 
life-sized portrait of Charles V in hunting dress, 
with a great mastiff by his side, and a picture of 
Philip II receiving the homage of the Netherlands 
occupied the centre of the other wall. Between 
the windows stood a black ebony cabinet, inlaid 
with plates of ivory, on which the figures from 
Holbein's Dance of Death had been graved — 
by the hand, some said, of that famous master 
himself. 

But the little Dwarf cared nothing for all this 
magnificence. He would not have given his rose 

[197] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



for all the pearls on the canopy, nor one white 
petal of his rose for the throne itself. What he 
wanted was to see the Infanta before she went 
down to the pavilion, and to ask her to come away 
with him when he had finished his dance. Here, 
in the Palace, the air was close and heavy, but in 
the forest the wind blew free, and the sunlight 
with wandering hands of gold moved the tremu- 
lous leaves aside. There were flowers too, in the 
forest, not so splendid, perhaps, as the flowers in 
the gardens, but more sweetly scented for all 
that; hyacinths in early spring that flooded with 
waving purple the cool glens, and grassy knolls; 
yellow primroses that nestled in little clumps 
round the gnarled roots of the oak-trees; bright 
celandine, and blue speedwell, and irises lilac and 
gold. There were grey catkins on the hazels, and 
the fox-gloves drooped with the weight of their 
dappled bee-haunted cells. The chestnut had 
its spires of white stars, and the hawthorn its 
pallid moons of beauty. Yes: surely she would 
come if he could only find her! She would come 
with him to the fair forest, and all day long he 
would dance for her delight. A smile lit up his 
eyes at the thought, and he passed into the next 
room. 

Of all the rooms this was the brightest and the 

[198] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

most beautiful. The walls were covered with a 
pink-flowered Lucca damask, patterned with 
birds and dotted with dainty blossoms of silver; 
the furniture was of massive silver, festooned 
with florid wreaths and swinging Cupids; in front 
of the two large fire-places stood great screens 
broidered with parrots and peacocks, and the 
floor, which was of sea-green onyx, seemed to 
stretch far away in the distance. Nor was he 
alone. Standing under the shadow of the door- 
way, at the extreme end of the room, he saw a 
little figure watching him. His heart trembled, 
a cry of joy broke from his lips, and he moved 
out into the sunlight. As he did so, the figure 
moved out also, and he saw it plainly. 

The Infanta! It was a monster, the most 
grotesque monster he had ever beheld. Not 
properly shaped, as all other people were, but 
hunchbacked, and crooked-limbed, with huge 
lolling head and mane of black hair. The little 
Dwarf frowned, and the monster frowned also. 
He laughed, and it laughed with him, and held 
its hands to its sides, just as he himself was doing. 
He made it a mocking bow, and it returned him 
a low reverence. He went towards it, and it 
came to meet him, copying each step that he 
made, and stopping when he stopped himself. 

[199] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



He shouted with amusement, and ran forward, 
and reached out his hand, and the hand of the 
monster touched his, and it was as cold as ice. 
He grew afraid, and moved his hand across, and 
the monster's hand followed it quickly. He 
tried to press on, but something smooth and 
hard stopped him. The face of the monster was 
now close to his own, and seemed full of terror. 
He brushed his hair off his eyes. It imitated 
him. He struck at it, and it returned blow for 
blow. He loathed it, and it made hideous faces 
at him. He drew back, and it retreated. 

What is it? He thought for a moment, and 
looked round at the rest of the room. It was 
strange, but everything seemed to have its double 
in this invisible wall of clear water. Yes, picture 
for picture was repeated, and couch for couch. 
The sleeping Faun that lay in the alcove by the 
doorway had its twin brother that slumbered, 
and the silver Venus that stood in the sunlight 
held out her arms to a Venus as lovely as her- 
self. 

Was it echo? He had called to her once in 
the valley, and she had answered him word for 
word. Could she mock the eye, as she mocked 
the voice? Could she make a mimic world just 
like the real world? Could the shadow of things 

[200] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

have colour and life and movement? Could it 
be that — ? 

He started, and taking from his breast the 
beautiful white rose, he turned round and kissed 
it. The monster had a rose of its own, petal for 
petal the same! It kissed it with like kisses, and 
pressed it to its heart with horrible gestures. 

When the truth dawned upon him, he gave a 
wild cry of despair, and fell sobbing to the ground. 
So it was he who was misshapen and hunch- 
backed, foul to look at and grotesque. He 
himself was the monster, and it was at him that 
aU the children had been laughing, and the little 
Princess who he had thought loved him, — she 
too had been merely mocking at his ugliness, and 
making merry over his twisted limbs. Why had 
they not left him in the forest where there was 
no mirror to tell him how loathsome he was? 
Why had his father not killed him, rather than 
sell him to his shame? The hot tears poured 
down his cheeks, and he tore the white rose to 
pieces. The sprawling monster did the same, 
and scattered the faint petals in the air. It 
groveUed on the ground, and, when he looked at 
it, it watched him with a face drawn with pain. 
He crept away, lest he should see it, and covered 
his eyes with his hands. He crawled, like some 

[201] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



wounded thing, into the shadow, and lay there 
moaning. 

And at that moment the Infanta herself came 
in with her companions through the open window, 
and when they saw the ugly dwarf lying on the 
ground and beating the floor with his clenched 
hands, in the most fantastic and exaggerated 
manner, they went off into shouts of happy 
laughter, and stood all round him and watched 
him. 

"His dancing was funny,'' cried the Infanta; 
"but his acting is funnier still. Indeed he is 
almost as good as the puppets, only of course not 
so natural." And she fluttered her big fan, and 
applauded. 

But the little Dwarf never looked up, and his 
sobs grew fainter and fainter, and suddenly he 
gave a curious gasp, and clutched his side. And 
then' he fell back again, and lay quite still. 

"That is capital," said the Infanta, after a 
pause; "but now you must dance for me." 

"Yes," cried all the children, "you must get 
up and dance, for you are as clever as the Barbary 
apes, and much more ridiculous." 

But the little Dwarf made no answer. 

And the Infanta stamped her foot, and called 
out to her uncle, who was walking on the terrace 

[202] 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

with the Chamberlain, reading some despatches 
that had just arrived from Mexico where the 
Holy office had recently been established. '^My 
funny little dwarf is sulking," she cried, "you 
must wake him up, and tell him to dance for me." 

They smiled at each other, and sauntered in, 
and Don Pedro stooped down, and slapped the 
Dwarf on the cheek with his embroidered glove. 
"You must dance," he said, ^^ petit monstre. 
You must dance. The Infanta of Spain and the 
Indies wishes to be amused." 

But the Httle Dwarf never moved. 

"A whipping- master should be sent for," said 
Don Pedro wearily, and he went back to the 
terrace. But the Chamberlain looked grave, and 
he knelt beside the little dwarf, and put his hand 
upon his heart. And after a few moments he 
shrugged his shoulders, and rose up, and having 
made a low bow to the Infanta, he said: 

'^Mi hella Princes sa, your funny little dwarf 
will never dance again. It is a pity, for he is so 
ugly that he might have made the King smile." 

"But why will he not dance again?" asked the 
Infanta, laughing. 

"Because his heart is broken," answered the 
Chamberlain. 

And the Infanta frowned, and her dainty rose- 

[203] 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



leaf lips curled in pretty disdain. ' ' For the future 
let those who come to play with me have no 
hearts/' she cried, and she ran out into the 
garden. 



THE END 



[204] 



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